We Can't Hide Anymore
by Ordgar
Summary: Eragon want's nothing more than to return to his homeland Alagaesia. Perhaps a new arrival in New Vroengard will help grant his wish.
1. Reflection

'_We Can't Hide Anymore'_

This is my first fanfiction ever and it is for the Inheritance Cycle, although I think the series, whilst enjoyable, is certainly not among the best books I've ever read. In this story, I attempt to write what I think would happen in the event of Eragon and Arya reuniting. This isn't a very original premise but please judge it on its own merits, on which you can be as harsh as you like. I must apologise since my account has existed since late June and I've taken so long to publish a story!

Disclaimer = I own nothing of the Inheritance Cycle.

Chapter One – Reflection 

The air was humid and the sun bright as it began to set over New Vroengard, situated in the remote Islaze Mountains. As the sun descended in the west, towards the eastern borders of Alagaesia, its course was followed by the eyes of an apparently young human-elf hybrid male, of fair complexion, lean, muscular build and chestnut hair and eyes. The man's action was a ritual which he had practised daily, at the same time every day, for the last 23 years.

Eragon Bromsson could not help but weep at the sight of the sun coming to closer to his original home than he himself had been for nearly a quarter of a century. Even after decades in a new land, the pain of his departure ran deep and ached in his chest.

_How can it be true that I am here of all places?_ He pondered to himself. _Every night I go to sleep half expecting this is a dream and I'll wake up in the Spine, in my room, in my house, in Carvahall, __**my home**__.'_

_This is our home now Eragon._ Such was the reply from a huge, magnificent blue scaled dragon.

_I know it is now Saphira but nothing will change what and where my true home is. I don't belong here, in mountains only the elves have known before, isolated with only a handful of young riders and their hatchlings as my students and yours. I belong in the Spine, with a farm and animals, with my friends just a short walk down a mud path, with Roran, Katrina and Ismira next door._ By now Eragon's tone was one of frustration and self-pity

_Then why did we leave Eragon?_ Saphira replied in a reprimanding tone. _Why did we leave our home for this 'isolation' as you call it if we had so much left for us in Alagaesia. It was you who pushed for us leave, arguing it was for the best so WHY THE SUDDEN CHANGE OF HEART?_ Saphira roared as she spoke the last part, her roar sounding almost mournful to those who could overcome their terror to listen for it.

Eragon turned to look at his dragon, standing behind him, with an expression now regretful rather than self-pity. He sighed aloud, "Because back then I thought too highly of myself. I convinced myself that I was too large for Alagaesia Because I had so little faith in its people. I convince myself that there was nowhere within its borders that would've allowed us to raise the new generation of dragon riders in peace." He dropped himself to the ground to sit hopelessly, gazing at the dry earth. "Because I believed that these were signs that Angela's prophecy had come true. I would give anything for us to return any way possible."

_Then why don't we return Eragon? What's stopping us, apart from your irrational fear of that prophecy? You can't seriously believe that all prophecies come true?_

"All her others came true." Eragon retorted.

_Well how do you explain her predictions for your epic romance then?_

"That's cruel Saphira. You promised me not to bring this up before me again."

_You have to confront this someday Eragon._ By now Saphira's patience and sympathy had worn thin.

"Well clearly Arya and I weren't meant to be!" Eragon snapped, his patience also withering away. "For her an abstract duty to a people she barely knew for 70 years and a throne she never wanted or needed is far more important than any friendship, let alone relationship, and happiness she may or may not find with me or any other individual in this life other than Fírnen, and even with him she only allows herself to become close because she has no choice!" For once Saphira was stunned. Eragon had never talked of Arya in such a tone before now. Eragon ploughed on "And say we follow your suggestion and return to Alagaesia. Do you think Arya would be able to remove herself from her high horse and just tell me to my face how she feels about me instead of simply hiding behind her barrier of 'duty'. If that's the life she wants to lead, then she isn't worth my time or anybody's love!"

His pent-up anger now spent Eragon sunk back into his self-absorb state prior to Saphira's first words. Revealing long held thoughts to his soul mate in the way he had gave him some provided some relieve, if only from the loss of some stress. However he couldn't help but ponder on Saphira's earlier words. _'Why don't we return Eragon?'_ He had to admit that he would like nothing more than to jump on Saphira's back and never stop flying until he'd reached Alagaesia, if only to return to Carvahall and see Roran and his family again. Eragon had barely been able to contact him, even with magic in the years since he'd left. Most of his communication had been with Nasuada, Orik and Nar Garzhvog and on even rarer occasions Arya; such talks were mostly only to alert him of the discovery of a new rider. The talks with the others were warm – or respectful in Nar Garzhvog's case – and Eragon was even asked about how his life was in New Vroengard with his new students. Arya's conversation was, as it had been for most of their acquaintance, formal, reserved and concise. She only asked questions on the training and the facilities, never on Eragon's personal matters. It was if the emotional weeks they'd spent together before he left had never happened.

_Let her be then. If she's decided that her suspicions that she would one day love were inaccurate than let her live the life she's chosen; the only life she seems to know._

Saphira could only sigh at her rider's thoughts and she began to turn around to leave him and return to her nest in a nearby mountain cave. In the corner of her eye however, she spotted an approaching blur in the sky to the west. By now the sun had almost set and the sky above had turned a light blue, providing enough light for Saphira to make out the blur's shape.

_Eragon! Look to the west!_ Eragon replied with a quizzical look. _Why?_ He asked only to receive an irate _Just look you damn buffoon!_ Eragon twisted his torso to look over his right shoulder and see the blur moving closer. With his enhanced sight he saw the movement of wings on the blur's flanks and the small point of a humanoid creature seated on the blur's back. Only one dragon – since it could only be one – was living in Alagaesia and old enough and to be so large that it could make the journey from there to New Vroengard.

"It can't be . . . ." Eragon murmured.

_Yes; Arya and Fírnen have come, Eragon. Arya has come to __**you**__._


	2. We Meet Again

Thank you so much to those who responded so quickly to my first story. I started work on this chapter the very day after I published the first one of the things I hate most is fanfiction writers who post 1 or 2 chapters of a supposedly multi-chapter story and then NEVER update it ever again! By the way, the Islaze Mountains are something I saw on an Alagaesia world map I saw on Google Images. Hope that's not copyright, wouldn't do for my 1st story!

Disclaimer = I own no part of the Inheritance Cycle.

Chapter Two – We Meet Again

Eragon scrambled to his feet, furiously rubbed his eyes and pinched the skin of his hand with his nails to be sure it wasn't simply another dream from which he never wanted to awaken from. As it dawned upon him that the approaching shape was indeed what Saphira claimed it to be, he simply stared with an open jaw as Fírnen and Arya quickly approached his resting place on the cliff.

As they approached Eragon's mind was awash with emotions; first disbelief, then joy, then fear and then anger. The words he had shouted earlier were still ringing in his ears and he was not prepared to speak with Arya again after so long, whatever her reason for her visit without enlightening her of how his feelings had changed, how _he_ had changed in the years since they parted.

Fírnen landed on the cliff with all the grace and elegance of a mature dragon that had had time to realise its capabilities and limitations, such as Saphira or even Glaedr. Arya slid off his back with all her elvish grace and revealed herself from behind Fírnen's bulk. She appeared to Eragon in her typical black leggings, tunic and cloak, her sword and dagger at her hip but no crown upon her head.

In addition, to Eragon's grudging admittance, she was as youthful and beautiful as she had ever appeared. Her tight leggings complimented her long, slender yet toned legs; her tight tunic showed of her lean flat stomach, her ample chest and her long, toned arms despite the tunic sleeves reaching her wrists. Her raven black hair was pulled back in a tight braid, exposing her angelic, pale face as well as her leaf shaped ears. Most strikingly of all however were her eyes; a bright emerald green, they had always been intense and a pool of emotion, no matter how hard Arya tried to appear passive in her expression.

As she walked towards him however, Eragon couldn't help but notice had slow and shy her steps were, almost like the children who'd come to him as new riders had first greeted him upon their arrival, their red eyes betraying the heartbreak with which they had left their parents. Arya's eyes suddenly seemed to sparkle in the growing moonlight as the sun finally disappeared from the western horizon. Before Eragon could perform the traditional greeting, Arya flung herself upon him, wrapping her arms around his neck and under his right arm whilst burying her face in his chest.

Eragon froze with his arms in the air, completely stymied by Arya's actions. When he heard a small, muffled sound he took a few moments to realise that Arya was sobbing. An even more shocked Eragon wrapped his arms around Arya, clutching her tightly while Saphira and Fírnen flew away together into the air to court again for the first time in 23 years.

_Should I not greet Eragon first?_ Fírnen asked his once mate.

_No._ She replied. _They need to resolve their problems first._

Eragon continued to hold Arya as her tears soaked his blue woollen tunic. Before he had prepared himself to be cool in his welcoming of her and to let her know how he felt about the years of distance and quiet from her. Now all he wanted was for her to stop crying so he could see her face again and know what was wrong. Yet her shoulders continued to shake, her mouth made small, short gasps as she sobbed and Eragon's chest became damper as her tears soaked through his clothing.

By now the chill of the young night had begun to set in and anyone else would've become impatient with Arya but Eragon remained rooted to his spot, his grip on Arya unyielding and yet gentle at the same time. Finally, after what may have been half an hour, Arya became quiet, her tears stopped and she tugged against Eragon's arms. Eragon released her from his embrace and she released him from hers. Arya stepped back from Eragon, revealing her red eyes, runny nose and her attempts to force a sad smile as she looked into Eragon's shocked eyes.

"After all these years this doesn't seem an adequate greeting but; hello Eragon. I apologise for my actions." Arya spoke her first words to Eragon in the flesh in 23 years in a croaky voice that several times shortly turned into nervous giggling. Eragon was at first too stunned to respond but eventually he did.

"Please don't apologise Arya. Just tell me, what's wrong?" Arya nervously wrung her hands before answering. The absence of the formal elvish greeting made her behaviour all the more peculiar.

"I come to you after all these years of distance wanting to become close to you again. After all these years of formality through an enchanted mirror all I desire most is to rekindle the friendship we had. You must hate me for my hypocrisy."

Eragon flushed at these words, having lost his resolve to confront her as he'd planned. _Why is it I can never raise my voice, let alone a hand against Arya?_ He irately asked himself before promptly asking himself; _because you love her with the same infatuation a boy loves a pretty face and a kind smile. Only you seem to prefer an unnaturally beauty with a manner colder than dead fish._ The last line reminded Eragon of Saphira, making him worry she was rubbing off on him.

"Well I grant you, I have a few feelings and opinions which if you heard them would more than likely do more to jeopardize our friendship, which please remember I value incredibly highly, than any hypocrisy on your part." Eragon's tone – which sounded as if he was attempting to explain a misdeed – prompted a laugh from Arya; a sound Eragon had scarcely heard and almost forgotten, yet cherished as much as the memory of his lost home.

"Shall we start again?"

"Aye, that would be nice."

"Very well" she performed the traditional elvish greeting and Eragon replied in kind. Then she offered her arm which Eragon grasped her arm and they embraced again, this time in the manner of male leaders, gripping each other's forearm with one arm and resting the other over their friend's shoulder. The return to their traditional, more formal manners helped Eragon regain his confidence in voicing his problems to Arya at a later point. When they parted Arya smoothed out her rumpled tunic and Eragon did so with his.

"Shall I escort you to my home and my students or shall I call Saphira and Fírnen?" Eragon asked.

"Let them be" Arya replied "he'll be glad to have more time to spend with different company. Besides I've long tired of sitting in a leather saddle, it's been too long since I stretched my legs." With those words they began the trek from the cliff to New Vroengard. By now the night had fully arrived, the crescent moon was shining and the fires in the distance provided the reunited friends with a beautiful outline of the citadel that Eragon and Saphira had for the last 23 years called their home.


	3. New Vroengard

_Thank you to all those who've added me to their Story/Author Alert or Favourite Story list; this has been a tremendous response to my first fanfiction. I'm sorry the story is moving very slowly, I'm just desperate to get new material out as soon as possible. I struggled with the actual reunion since it's very difficult to write Arya in a way that's interesting, realistic and not OOC (I blame Paolini for his portrayal of her for this problem). Hope you enjoy this new, longer chapter._

_**New Vroengard**_

New Vroengard was a modest sight, unsurprisingly for a settlement barely two decades old and still unfinished. The great hall in which the riders ate and slept was of oak, wattle, daub and thatch, surrounded by huts of similar construction containing stores of weapons, food, drink, clothing and tools. The dragons had to simply reside either in caves or in giant barns that consisted only of thatch roofs and wooden posts thick as trees. The entire site was situated on a small plateau on the slopes of a mountain that dwarfed even those of the Boers. Apart from a number of twinkling, minuscule lights from the fire posts and windows of the great hall, the settlement was invisible in the night's darkness.

As Eragon and Arya approached New Vroengard on foot from Eragon's cliff which overlooked the settlement's plateau, he felt abashed at the site's appearance that paled in comparison even to Carvahall. "Welcome to my royal domain your Grace. I hope it does make your own seem a mere fiefdom in comparison." Eragon used a mockingly deep, regal voice and dramatically posed as if presenting New Vroengard as if he was unveiling a master painting or tapestry.

Arya snorted with mirth but replied with all seriousness "I'll admit I'm impressed with what you've built in such a place in so little time. It's an impeccable location, though somewhat hard to reach?"

"We've had no complaints from arriving students about accessibility. They complain about the food, or its scarcity, the training, the weather and, in the worst cases homesickness but never about access. Besides, the valleys below us are infested with innumerable wild beasts and our dragons cannot flush them out without destroying the landscape for generations."

"It would be a pity to do so; I noticed the valleys as I arrived and you are certainly blessed with beautiful views in this . . . part of the world . . . wherever that is" she trailed off with a sarcastic tone. As Arya mentioned _beautiful views_ Eragon couldn't help gaze at her for just a moment. She'd always been the most beautiful woman in the world in Eragon's eyes and he had to remind himself that this wasn't a dream.

"We believe it's called the Islaze Mountains" Eragon answered her "according to the _Domia abr Wryda_. They haven't been inhabited before since they're so remote. We trying to send messages back to Alagaesia encouraging people to move here and start a new colony to support the riders."

"And create stronger ties with Alagaesia perhaps?" Arya's question caught Eragon off guard.

"I hadn't thought of that" he replied "Would that be such a bad thing?"

"Not at all; it could be a route to greater prosperity for humans"

"But not for others?" Arya sighed.

"The Dwarves are too content with their mountain dwellings and my people dislike any land outside Du Weldenvarden. Perhaps the Urgals would finally have somewhere removed enough to allow them to wage war without too much collateral damage to the other races." Such an idea had its holes and was perhaps too simple but Eragon left it.

"That reminds me, how are matters in Alagaesia since my last message to Nasuada?" Eragon was looking at Arya as they walked side by side. Then she looked ahead and replied "Matters are well, I would elaborate but we seem to have arrived." Eragon turned to see himself being approached by his oldest student, Jark.

"_Ebrithil_ Eragon, we were wondering where you were." He strode over purposely from the great hall in simple tunic, leggings and training boots. He was clearly young – Eragon knew him to be only 17 – with a lean build, short dark hair, dark eyes and noticeable stubble around his chin and upper lip. He greeted Eragon with a small, short nod before turning to Arya. "May I ask who fair maiden this is _Ebrithil_; a new student perhaps? Either way, she's most welcome"

Eragon didn't appreciate the glint in Jark's eyes, the smile he gave Arya or the overly friendly tone he used when referring to her. Loudly clearing his throat, he replied "This is Arya _Dröttningu, Rider of the Dragon Fírnen, Queen of the Elves of Du Weldenvarden and my close friend." Despite Eragon's cordial tone, Jark turned to look at him and his eyes seemed to show he'd lost his interest in Arya, at least whilst in the lead Rider's presence. Regaining his composure he turned back to Arya._

_"It is an honour and a privilege to finally meet you your Grace." Jark's tone was respectful and formal and he accompanied his greeting with a small, simple bow followed by the Elvish greeting which Arya returned in kind. "My, eh," he cleared his throat awkwardly "apologies for my words you Grace, I spoke without thought."_

_"Well that is a first for you Jark. You're normally ____so__ careful." Eragon's voice dripped with sarcasm._

_Arya, who'd adopted her trademark expressionless face after Jark's first sentence towards her, replied in a voice devoid of emotion "It is no matter Rider Jark, although I would expect greater composure and less recklessness towards strangers form someone of your station." Eragon mentally winced "But ____Ebrithil__ Eragon and I are old friends and if he pardons you, I'm sure we cans start again?" She turned to look at Eragon quizzically._

_"Of course, don't worry Jark. Shall we join the others for supper?" The three walked in through the great hall's entrance, a tall, thick pair of oak doors, and were greeted by the disappearance of moderately loud conversation, replace by a hushed silence. Eragon looked round the hall to see the reactions on the faces of the hall's occupants. The elves who'd originally accompanied him on his departure wore knowing stares mingled with surprise at the presence of their queen so far from her homeland. _

_Beside them, the seven students, minus Jark and the two elves among them, were clearly blissfully ignorant of the identity of the stunningly beautiful elvish woman at their ____Ebrithil's__ side. The male students – the three non-elves of the four – had the same look Jark gave Arya creep into their eyes as their surprise gave way to desire and sensing of an opportunity and competition; the latter was shared by the eyes of the female students. _

_Despite the awkward attention, Arya held her high and remained expressionless as she always had done in the face of hostility or fear. ____Clearly her mother wasn't the only reason the elves selected her as queen__ Eragon thought with knowing satisfaction ____nothing shakes her, she is always unbowed, dignified; a true leader.__ He suddenly realised the time since their arrival and the silence's beginning and he cleared his throat._

_"My students, I present to you Arya Dröttningu, Rider of the Dragon Fírnen and Queen of the elves of Du Weldenvarden. That should tell you I expect that for the duration of her stay, she will be treated with the utmost respect and decorum." Eragon lead Arya to head of one of the two tables, that which seated the elves, whilst Jark joined his fellow students, who promptly began to question him about the visiting monarch in loud whispers. The elves stood to bow but Arya dismissed them with a wave of her arm as she seated herself opposite Eragon at the head of the stable. Eragon filled two bowls from the cauldron hanging over the central fire, returned to the table giving one to Arya. The bowl was filled with nearly to the rim with a thin vegetable stew. _

_"I did say the students complain about the food." Arya chuckled._

_"About its nature of its scarcity?" she teasingly asked._

_"Both." Eragon smiled at his own embarrassment. "A small, shack-resembling home, pitiful food only the lowest farmer would enjoy. My capability for hospitality will become legendary upon your return." Something in Arya's eyes at this quip confused Eragon, though only for a moment. She peered at Eragon's bowl, barely half full and then looked back at her own. _

_"You say food is scarce, yet my bowl is full." She raised her eyes to look at Eragon, rested her head on the hand of her elbow-rested arm and raised her eyebrow at Eragon. Her accusing tone and gaze caught him off-guard as he remembered her disdain for special treatment. He glanced shyly at his lap before replying._

_"You are a queen." He reminded her._

_"I am also your friend." She scooped nearly half of her portion into his bowl before she began to tuck into the stew as if she hadn't eaten in days. ____She most likely hasn't since the morning__ Eragon thought as he slowly ate, embarrassed at his chastening and mentally kicking himself for forgetting that Eragon was not just any other woman; she was a warrior, she was a queen, she was an elf. ____She was Arya__._

_As they ate in silence, Eragon looked over at his students. Jark had clearly learned his lesson as he was evidently trying to avoid talking about Arya to the others, although that may've been simply to avoid admitting his foolish first words in her presence. He was being most persistently questioned by the two oldest of the male human riders; Illidor (a 21 year old aristocrat from the former Empire) and Ruga. Illidor was every inch the young aristocrat; handsome, well fed, muscular, yet still lean, blonde locks and blue eyes._

_Illidor was refusing to give Jark any peace, and neither was Ruga, an ebony skinned 20 year old nomad from the Hadarac Desert. Standing at 6' 4', he dwarfed all the other students and the elves, even Eragon and had the muscle to match. He'd retained the long robes of his tribe since no clothes in the stores could fit him for long. With his shaved head, nose ring and three white scars on his cheek he had originally been the most isolated of New Vroengard's few inhabitants but had been taken under the wing of Illidor of all people. _

_Watching the exchange on the same table was the remaining two male students, Olorus and Marc. Olorus was the only male elf student, with the characteristic pointed ears, slender build and outstanding beauty of the elves. He was different in the sense that he wore his white blonde hair cropped short above the ears. Unsurprisingly he seemed disapproving of whatever questions or comments Illidor and Ruga were making. _

_Marc was quiet and expressionless, as he usually was. He was the youngest student at only 14, and also the smallest; without an ounce of fat or muscle on his body and only standing at 5' 4', he hardly resembled a rider. He was also dirty, unwilling to bathe or cut his shaggy brown mop that reached his shoulders._

_The three girls, Eragon noticed, had long since abandoned pestering Jark for information and had taken to murmuring among themselves. Eragon couldn't help but suspect they were gossiping about Arya and her links with Eragon and perhaps even sizing her up. ____Alright perhaps they're not doing that, none of them are in anyway shallow enough.__ Eragon knew his students well enough to know they were above the petty concerns of ordinary women, whatever their race. _

_This was especially true of Redlyn, the only human female rider. With her namesake fiery red hair reaching below her shoulder blades, her freckled, long face and muscular but seductive figure, she was the antithesis of the typical, 'helpless human female' that Arya was so keen to disassociate from, a thought that brought back memories of Farthen Dur._

___Out first battle together__ Eragon looked back at Arya for the first time since they began eating. She'd by now finished her stew and was looking at her fellow elves down the table. She was also noticeably trying to avert her eyes from the students. ____She mustn't' want to attract their attention.__ Eragon thought, reminding himself that she was still a self-conscious being, despite her dignified appearances in public. _

_"Shall I introduce the first student Riders in over a century, Arya Dröttningu?" Arya snapped her head back towards Eragon. His embarrassment from earlier had faded. She slowly smiled at him. ____ I don't think I've ever seen her smile so much in a single day, let alone in barely an hour._

_"I don't want to interrupt their dinner Eragon . . . . "_

_"We don't have to; if you join me on this side of the table for a better view I can tell you all you need to know. They won't notice us. If they do, who will they complain to? Me?" Arya chuckled – ____Since when has she chuckled so much?__ – and joined Eragon's side of the table. Once settled, she crossed her arms, rested them on the table and looked over at Eragon expectantly. _

_"Opposite Jark is Illidor." he pointed to him and Arya's gaze followed his arm. "He is an aristocrat from Feinster. You may want to watch out for him, he has a rather high opinion of himself." Arya's expression appeared emotionless, hinting that she'd steeled herself for an unpleasant encounter with Illidor. Eragon quickly reassure her Illidor was a decent man, if a little ignorant and irresponsible._

_"Then there is Ruga, the 'Giant of the Sands' as I'm sure he'll be nicknamed in the histories for centuries to come. You'll like him; he's straight forward, dedicated, perhaps influenced by Illidor on a bad day but he'd be a loyal soldier."_

_"The man of your own kind is Olorus . . ."_

_"I know him." Arya's tone wasn't warm and her expression was now a full glare._

_"Do you?" _

_"Aye; his family is among the most prominent in Ellesmera. Olorus arrived here . . . . 4 years ago, did he not?" Eragon nodded._

_"Before his dragon hatched, his family petitioned me to choose his elder brother as his mate." Eragon was stunned; he'd received no word of this from Arya before her visit and Olorus had made no indication he'd even known her in anyway. He felt bad it was Olorus, since he was a good pupil who didn't bear the same prejudice against non-elves that others such as Vanir had, at least before the war. He struggled to find an answer to Arya's revelation. _

_"Did Olorus have any part to play in it?"_

_"I'd rather not talk about it now. So who's the boy sitting next to Olorus?" Arya's tone made it clear she wanted to move on._

_"That is Marc, our youngest student. He looks strange I know and he was mocked for it when he first arrived last year." He didn't mention that Illidor and Ruga was the primary culprits. "But I then he impressed everyone with some dragon flying tricks. He might show them to you if we get the chance." Eragon said the last part hopefully._

_As she'd heard the plea in his voice, Arya replied in an almost sympathetic tone; "I would like that very much." Her smile and her eyes were warm, filling Eragon with warmth himself. He turned his gaze to Redlyn. _

_"That is Redlyn, she was my first student and arrived six years after I left, aged just 15; much like me when I discovered Saphira, thanks to you." He winked at Arya, though regretted it when she raised an eyebrow at his behaviour. Eagerly continuing, Eragon went on "I've possibly never met someone more fiercely independent or with such a no-nonsense view towards training." He avoided adding ____sometimes I see you in her__. "Over there is Oresta." Eragon directed Arya's gaze to a young and surprisingly pretty, by human standards, dwarfish woman. (She was young by dwarfish standards; 42.) She seemed to share Marc's preference for simply watching other people's conversations as she listened to Redlyn talk animatedly to Olorus. _

_"She's rather reserved for a dwarf, is she not?" Arya asked, though trying not to sound disrespectful._

_"She is, though it's rather refreshing to meet a dwarf who wasn't blunt or loud all the time." Unsurprisingly Arya seemed to share this sentiment, as it earned a chuckle from her. Her mirth ended when she laid eyes on the final rider. She was Olennia and was, unfortunately due to recent revelations, Olorus's twin sister. She shared her brother's white blonde hair and his more open attitude towards non-elves, which made the revelation about their family more painful._

_"She came over with Olorus." Eragon hesitantly mentioned, already knowing the answer._

_"I know; she was chosen by Olorus' dragon's twin. How fitting don't you think?" Her pained, sarcastic tone unsettled Eragon. ____There's more to her story than she's telling me.__ He thought. Before he could enquire further, the hall was silenced by the sound of dragons roaring together in anger._

___I hope you're glad to see a longer chapter. I also hope the introduction of the students was sufficient. I don't know how useful or relevant they will be since I don't plan on this story being much longer than five chapters. Eragon and Arya will talk even more next chapter but I wanted to get something out to guys as soon as possible. _

___By the way, please don't feel offended but I must ask you guys; please, please, please try to give me some constructive criticism. I appreciate your reviews but I'm aspiring to become an author some day, so I'd like it if you guys would alert me if my storytelling is adequate enough for a novel. Thanks for reading. _


	4. Struggles of Love

_My deepest apologies to everybody for how long it's taken for me to update; my computer stopped working for a few days but after that I decided to write a longer chapter to get the story moving but then got lazy. Anyway, here's chapter 4 and I hope it makes up for the long wait._

_Disclaimer = I own nothing of the original Inheritance cycle._

_**Struggles of Love**_

The hall quickly emptied as Eragon, Arya, the elves and eight students rushed from their tables and out of the rear entrance on the hall onto the open ground outside. They were confronted with the sight of three dragons in the night sky, circling each other and roaring defiantly, whilst seven other dragons hovered in the air around them in stunned silence. Through the darkness Eragon required magic to see that among the three dragons at centre stage in the spectacle were Fírnen, Saphira and a young grey scaled dragon.

"Falstan" Illidor cried behind him, "what are you doing?" Eragon knew he was likely repeating his words in his mind to Falstan.

_Saphira what's going on?_ Eragon mentally screamed.

_Falstan saw me and Fírnen flying together and he just attacked him!_ Saphira replied in outrage. Eragon turned his attention to the dragon in question but was interrupted by Illidor's pained exclamation.

"Falstan was angered when he saw Fírnen with Saphira; he called him an outsider that didn't deserve her _Ebrithil_!" Illidor's statement was loud yet sheepish in front of his fellow students and Fírnen's rider Arya. There was also confusion in his voice, and Eragon groaned loudly and angrily with realisation, rubbing his eyes as he remembered an incident several years ago that had clearly come back to haunt them all.

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 5 years earlier - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -_

Eragon was standing before all four of his students, Illidor, Ruga, Redlyn and Oresta, all of whom were barely standing, their headaches betrayed by lightly bowed heads and the blank expressions in their faces. This was their usual state after their average group lesson in the use of magic. At the end of each session, an amused Eragon had to remind himself that he was a unique case – learning magic within a few months – and therefore had no right to mock young riders who, like most riders in all history, were taking several years to learn the most basic aspects of magic. It didn't make it any less funny for him to see them struggle though.

"I know that each of you feels as if your head's been kicked by a horse and your dragon's have then roared in your ears" all four students glared at him but he simply replied chuckling "but with perseverance you will grasp the technique. Swordplay and flying are both only a single part of ridership; strength of body is nothing without strength of mind. Do you understand?"

All the students nodded, with Redlyn trying to be enthusiastic. Out of all his students she was the most dedicated and eager to please, as well as being the oldest. At the prime human age of 27 winters, she proved herself more capable than her younger fellow human students and even her older fellow female dwarfish student Oresta. Eragon had had to make a mental note years ago not to have favourites, despite the pride he felt whenever he saw Redlyn in training, reminding himself that she had the advantage of being with him the longest.

"Since it's now dusk you can rest yourselves until dinner. You're dismissed." After a chorus of 'Thank you _Ebrithil_'s Eragon made his way to his cliff. The training session took place in the clearing in front of the great hall, so Eragon walked around the building and past the storage huts to make his way up the slope to the cliff from which he and Saphira would watch the sunset every evening.

He found Saphira perched on top of the cliff already, her front legs folded over one another. Her face and her position were unreadable and not abnormal but through their connection Eragon realised she was fuming.

"Good evening Saphira." Eragon cautiously greeted his dragon.

_Good evening_. Saphira curtly replied.

Normally, when she was in a negative mood, she'd simply greet him as 'Eragon' rather than her more common and affectionate name 'little one'. The absence of both was a first for an increasingly uncomfortable Eragon. In addition, her mind was blocked off from everyone, even him. He gave a few minutes of silence as he sat himself down on the earth and began to gaze at the setting sun.

Their ritual of watching the sunset was normally also the time of day when they would share their experiences of the day with each other. Eragon would describe his lessons with the riders, as he taught them the arts of combat – armed and unarmed – and the use of magic, as well as educating them in the politics of Alagaesia, the land to which they would eventually return to guard the peace. In return, Saphira would recount her sessions with the young dragons, teaching all manner of flying tricks and aerial combat. It helped to distract them from the otherwise inevitable feelings of sadness that engulfed them as they gazed west and thought of home. Consequently, the tense silence between them was all the more abnormal and discomforting.

Finally Eragon breathed deeply and broke the silence; "Saphira, is something the matter? I don't mean to pester you; I simply care for your wellbeing." Eragon made an effort to ensure his tone wasn't patronising, irritating or too submissive, as he wanted an answer.

Saphira breathed a huge sigh but the anger emanating from her barely falter. She seemed to be pondering her next actions for a few moments, her anger arguing with her closeness to Eragon. Finally she seemed to deflate and she spoke.

_Forgive me little one_ Her words and her tone relieved Eragon _I've simply had an incident during training today._ Eragon's concern returned.

"What kind of incident, if you don't mind me asking? Are the dragons getting out of line?" Saphira sighed again, and then seemed to take a deep breath. Her response was almost blurted out.

_Falstan tried to begin courting me; in front of all the other dragons._

"WHAT?" Eragon scrambled to his feet, turning to face Saphira with shock and anger running through him. Saphira just sighed again. "What do you mean he began courting you?"

_I know Eragon it's a complete and utter outrage. I don't know who he thinks he is even thinking that I could possibly want to be his mate! How dare he, I'm his Ebrithil . . . . I'm old enough to be his mother, damn it!_

"Well you did the same with Glaedr . . ."

_ARE YOU DEFENDING HIM?_ Saphira's shocked and indignant roar rang out throughout the entire valley.

"No!" Eragon shouted defiantly "I'm just as disgusted as you are but we can't forget that you've been in his position too! Anyway what did you do about it?"

_I thrashed him around the mountains like a rag doll in front of all the other dragons. I also made them all swear in the Ancient Language not to mention this to anyone, not even their riders. _

"Good, we don't need this sort of thing getting out. There's too few of us here to allow this to cause trouble." Eragon sat himself back down on the earth, this time facing Saphira. More minutes of silence passed between them as they both calmed down and came to terms with what they'd discussed. Eventually they began to talk about their day apart from each other, pointedly reframing from mentioning Falstan's behaviour.

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Present - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -_

Eragon had thought – perhaps hoped rather – that Falstan's attempt on Saphira was a temporary infatuation that had passed years ago. The evidence that he'd been wrong was a humiliation for him as much as it was for Illidor, since it was **Arya's** dragon being attacked. As for her, her worry for Fírnen has translated into anger that she was, to Eragon's terrible realisation, was being vented on poor Illidor.

"What does your dragon think he's doing? What on earth to tell him? How dare he treat an elder dragon in such a manner, and what do you tell him for him to think this way!"

A horrified Illidor was incapable of answering Arya, whose demonic looking face was barely inches from Illidor's and her hands seemed to be trembling as they were clenched into iron hard fists, as if ready to strike Illidor or even Falstan if given the chance. Eragon knew he had to calm her before he could subdue Falstan.

_Arya please, remain calm._ Eragon chose to correct Arya through their minds to avoid humiliatingly admonishing her in public.

_Remain calm! How can you be asking me that at this time?_

_I'm asking you because we can't have everyone seeing the Queen of the Elves behaving in such a manner._

_But I'm . . . _ Arya seemed to stall on some words. She quickly recovered and replied; _Fine, but what do we do with Falstan?_

_I'll deal with him, but in my way._

Eragon turned his full attention to the aerial standoff that Fírnen and Falstan had seemed to have developed. Meanwhile Saphira looked poised to strike at the latter, as did several of the remaining other dragons circling the air around them. As Saphira's intentions became clear Eragon panicked. _Saphira, don't do anything rash!_

_What do you want me to do? Just let Falstan make a fool of himself and let Fírnen have his wings ripped apart?_

_I can solve this without anyone getting injure. We can't have you attacking one another, we can't afford for any of you to be maimed even if it means putting Falstan in his place. I can do that myself. Please trust me Saphira._

Saphira seemed unwilling at first, desperate to act rather than watch on the sidelines. Eventually she replied in an almost resentful tone.

_Very well little one; just be sure that my mate is unharmed._

With Saphira's consent given, however reluctantly, Eragon refocused on the two male dragons who continued to roar at each other, almost as if communicating in a manner intelligible only to the other dragons. Eragon began to summon his reserves of energy throughout his body and began to focus them all on seizing Falstan, restricting his movement and fixing him in a single spot in the sky. Eragon was met with a fierce struggle from Falstan but eventually he succeeded in immobilising him.

He then proceeded to draw him downwards towards the position of the bewildered, two-legged audience. As he did so every other living creature witnessing the scene was awestruck by the display of power from Eragon, as he slowly but surely forced a writhing Falstan closer and closer to the earth, all without uttering a single word in the Ancient Language.

Despite the show of absolute control from Eragon, he himself was struggling to maintain his hold over the dragon and he had to draw some energy from Brom's ring Arun simply to remain standing as he drew Falstan to halt roughly 20 feet above the heads of him, Arya and the others. Eragon used even more energy from Arun to maintain his control over Falstan and the latter's position as he spoke out in a loud, commanding voice that thinly veiled his frustration and anger.

"Falstan, words cannot describe the disappointment at you actions that, your rider Illidor, Arya Dröttning and your fellow dragons and their riders feel at you actions tonight. Whatever reason you may have for your conduct, it was no justification for an attack on an honoured guest. You must cooperate and work with _Skulblaka_ Fírnen in order to fulfil your duty; to guard the peace between the nations and races of Alagaesia when you return after completing your training.

Your actions tonight have caused me to doubt you worthiness of such a responsibility. Therefore I hereby banish you from New Vroengard for ten days in order for you to reflect on your actions."

"But _Ebrithil_ . . . ." Illidor had been watching in shame and humiliation but now stepped forward in shock and indignation.

"Silence Illidor; you're lucky I don't send you away with him for failing to calm him down yourself!" Eragon's bark visibly stung all the onlookers, not least Illidor and even Arya. Eragon simply returned his attention to Falstan and spoke to him in a lower, almost sneering tone; "Have I made myself clear, _Skulblaka_ Falstan?"

The grey dragon's resentment seemed to shine from his silver eyes. For a moment Falstan seemed to be trying to wriggle his way from Eragon's ethereal grip on him. Then he gazed long and hard at Eragon's harder eyes, looking for any signs that he may be swayed by a fiery defence, a humble explanation or even a grovelling apology.

Finally, the great dragon simply sighed; _Yes Ebrithil; I understand entirely._

With these words Eragon was finally placated. "You may leave than Falstan, and think more on what you've done." With those words Eragon released his hold on Falstan's body and with his freedom returned, Falstan immediately took flight, before he could fall to the earth, into the pitch black night sky. He eventually disappeared into the darkness, flying towards the south, without even looking back at Eragon, Saphira, Fírnen or even Illidor.

Illidor himself was gazing almost dumbly in Falstan's direction, not noticing any of the sympathetic or neutral (no doubt to hide mockery) looks from his fellow students of the elves. Eragon turned to the entire assembly and, clearing his throat, ordered them to return to their dinner and demanded that they speak no more of this incident. The remainder of dinner passed in silence, especially between Eragon and Arya.

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - An hour later - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - _

Later that night the students and the elves ascended the stairs to their boarding rooms having bidden Eragon and Arya a subdued goodnight. Eragon replied kindly to give them some reassurance that his anger had passed but Arya had simply given polite nods and small smiles in reply, even to Illidor. When they were alone, Eragon turned to Arya with trepidation.

Ever since the incident she'd been silent and barely looked up from her food. The feeling of peaceful ecstasy that Eragon had felt since her arrival had vanished to be replaced by the feelings he had as boy when he stood before his aunt Marian as he awaited a disciplinary lecture from her.

He had summon all his courage and his decorum into his tone to speak to her again when they were alone; courage so that he didn't sound like his childhood self and thus humiliate himself in front of the woman he wanted even more than he wanted to return home; and decorum to ensure he didn't reignite the fury she'd displayed at the sight of Fírnen and Falstan at each others throats.

"My quarters are separate from the great hall. You may take them if you wish, I'll use the floor."

"No Eragon, I couldn't deprive you of your bed." Her tone was light and friendly again as it had been earlier, and her smile had broadened into one of sympathy for a generous friend.

"I insist Arya Dröttning."

"Please stop using that title on me." Arya's impatient reply was almost a snap. Eragon slightly resented her tone and words and allowed it to show in his voice.

"I'm _sorry_ I just didn't think the others would think it appropriate for the Elvin Queen . . . ."

"I'm not the Elvin Queen!"

The words had seemingly blurted out of her mouth as shock immediately took over Arya's complexion and she froze, as did Eragon. It took what may have been ten minutes or an hour for Arya's words to sink in and for Eragon to form a response.

"You . . . You abdicated?"

"Aye" Arya sighed heavily in response "I relinquished my crown and my throne three months ago. I didn't contact you then because I wanted to surprise you."

"But why did you?"

"Abdicate?" Eragon nodded "Officially, it was clear that after over 20 years of peace I was no longer need to ensure stability and peace among my own people and between them and the other races.

It was also always problematic that after Galbatorix's fall there was still I, as a dragon rider, as a monarch ruling in Alagaesia. It seemed that my presence on the throne was no longer a _necessary_ evil."

"You said officially; what does that mean?"

Arya sighed again and there was another long silence between the two friends. Eragon dared to hope against hope that Arya had missed him and that it was another reason for her abdication and journey to New Vroengard. He thought back to their liberated conversation earlier, the walk from the cliff to the great hall and the lack of awkwardness between the two. Their initial reunion certainly gave Eragon a strong impression that she'd missed him, at least as a friend. Finally, he remembered there summer's afternoon by the Ninor River and their final departure from each other on the ship that bore him and the elves away from Alagaesia.

_Surely they meant something to her? Both times she claimed to feel something for me; we bonded together by the river whilst Fírnen and Saphira mated; we shared our true names with each other!_

Then Eragon remembered, after her mother's death at Urû'baen, her silent distance from him; from _him_, supposedly her closest friend, at a time when she needed comfort, whatever the demands of her people. He remembered her coldness and formality in all of their correspondence in the years since he left, how she never allowed them to be alone whenever they communicated via scrying. Finally, he remembered the Arya of old, when he first met him as 16-year-old human youth, and how she was almost like an impatient, disappointed parent towards him. What's more, they'd only spent barely a year and a half together. Was that enough time for her to feel something for him that could last through 23 years of separation?

_It was enough time for you._

Eragon wasn't sure if it was his own mind or Saphira talking to him. He had no time to find out for Arya was finally replying to his question.

"I missed you Eragon, I truly did. I promised you that day, by the river, that I'd come and help you to raise the riders when they had grown, do you remember?"

"I could never forget that day. It made everything in the war worth it." Eragon thought he say a tiny hint of a blush on Arya's otherwise white as snow cheeks but she didn't seem to notice.

"I always meant to keep that promise. I would have come sooner if I could . . . ."

"How long has there been peace in Alagaesia?" Eragon's interruption came in a brusque, curtly manner, as a stark possibility dawned on him. Arya blinked with bewilderment.

"23 years, surely you know Era . . ."

"I mean enough peace for you to leave you throne for New Vroengard." _For me_

"Why do you ask?" Her tone was now suspicious and cautious.

"You told me that that before Olorus and Olennia's dragons hatched, you'd been approached by his family with a proposed match between you and his brother."

"Yes and I'd appreciate it if you didn't remind me." The old Arya's irritated, impatient manner had returned.

"That was the best part of 5 years ago. If there was such difficulty in Alagaesia that it wasn't possible for you to leave your post, I rather doubt that any typical elf would try to distract their monarch with such personal matters. I've known many elves Arya; it just doesn't seem to be in their nature."

"I'll ignore that generalization about my people, whatever truth there may be in it, but I'd like to know what on earth you're suggesting!"

"You could have come sooner; you could have left years ago and yet you didn't."

"Do you honestly think it's a simple matter to abdicate from a throne Eragon? I'd assumed your mind had matured in these past years but clearly you're still as ignorant as ever. Like a child, like . . . ."

"Like a human?"

That made Arya freeze and Eragon's blood boil. Since their tearful embrace on the cliff, his resentful thoughts about their relationship hadn't crossed his mind as he first enjoyed Arya's company and then struggled with Falstan's shocking actions. Now all the resentment, disappointment, self-pity and feelings of betrayal that he'd collected and nurtured over the many years of separation had resurfaced.

"You abdicated three months ago, so it doesn't seem as if the process of abdication, even from an elvish throne is too complicated. After all, you must have taken at least two months to get here from any part of Alagaesia's eastern borders so your abdication must have been a brisk affair.

In addition, if the conditions were right for you to entertain the possibility of a _mate_ five years ago, then surely only another year or two on the throne would've been necessary for appearances sake, so you _deliberately_ delayed our wonderful little reunion. Whilst I didn't mind holding you whilst you cried Arya, don't you think I wanted to cry too?"

Arya's reply was little more than a croaky stutter; "I-I-I don't know."

"I'VE BEEN WEEPING FOR 23 YEARS ARYA!" Eragon's outburst shocked himself as much as Arya. Fortunately he'd sub-consciously cast a spell to ward off listeners mere moments before his shouting. Nevertheless he tried to temper his speech.

"All these years I've been waiting here, in the middle of nowhere, with people alien to me, no matter how much like them I am as a rider, _I'm still human_! All the while new dragon riders arrive and every time I asked them for news of Alagaesia, of the elves and of you. Whenever I talked to you through a mirror, I met the same blank, meaningless wall of a living thing despite everything we'd been through together, everything we'd said and done; _we exchanged our true names_!

Yet there was no inkling that you and I had ever had anything like acquaintance, let alone friendship, gods forbid _love_ between us! You and I are not just statures Arya!"

Eragon roughly grabbed Arya's upper arms; forcing her to look up from the floor and into his damp eyes.

"We're living beings Arya; we think, we feel, we laugh, we cry, we love, we hate, and we live! Not even you are duty bound to surrender all your hopes and dreams to a people you didn't know for most of your life, to a people who wouldn't give a damn about you unless it was for your mother and sword on you hip!

All these years you've hidden from me, _deliberately_, and I'm suppose to just wait patiently like the young, love-sick human boy still pining after an elvish woman who shouldn't be his. I'm tired of waiting Arya; I'm tired of being patient, of having to fight tooth and nail every time we meet to find the real Arya, not Arya Dröttning, _Arya_, the woman I fell in love with!"

"Well I'm here now, aren't I?" Arya's reply was desperate but defiant. Eragon was at last silenced, having thrashed out all his anger and self-pity. He was held prisoner by Arya's damp eyes that bore right into his soul.

She pressed on; "I'm here now Eragon. It's the real Arya your seeing, holding, hearing; not Arya the Queen, not Arya the Ambassador, not Arya the Dragon Rider, just Arya! I came here eventually, and perhaps I left it longer than I should have but I came here, to you! I could've mated with Olorus and Olennia's brother" Eragon visibly bristled at that notion "but I didn't, because I wanted to come here, to you. It's all I've wanted for 23 years Eragon."

Eragon looked down at his feet in shame and his grip on her arms loosened, yet Arya didn't seem to want to lost contact as she grabbed his left arm with her right and held it against her collarbone in an almost tender manner. By now both of them was loudly sniveling as tears slowly leaked from their eyes one by one. Eragon raised his head to look back at Arya.

"Why did you wait so long to come?" His voice was now a low croak.

"Because there was always a minor dispute somewhere; it never needed my attention but I wanted to leave Alagaesia with a clean slate." Her voice was the same as his.

"Why were you always so cold whenever I scryed you? Why did you never scry me? And why could we never talk alone?"

"There were rumors abound in Du Weldenvarden about what had been between us before you left. It was another reason I couldn't leave too soon; everyone expected me to run off after you at the first opportunity. I couldn't talk to you alone without adding to fuel to the flames."

Her answers satisfied Eragon but there were two more questions he wished to ask. If he was a lucky man, than the answer to the first question would answer the second. And despite all the loved ones he'd lost, despite all his trials and despite the loss of his homeland, Eragon Bromsson was, at least in his mind, a lucky man.

"Why did you refuse the proposal 5 years ago?"

"I didn't want Olorus and Olennia's brother Orthal. I didn't want any elf, not after what I saw and felt was possible to be seen and felt with others not of my kind."

"Last question, you Grace, and then we may retire. And you're having my room!" Despite everything, Eragon felt the need to reaffirm his original argument and, despite everything, Arya laughed briefly. Eragon steeled himself to say the words that now, more than they could 23 years ago, could make him the happiest man in and outside of Alagaesia or throw himself over the cliff which he'd sat for 23 years.

"Arya, do you love me, as I have always loved you?"

Arya's reply was quick, simple – like her – and yet, unusually for her past self, full of every kind of emotion; sorrow, joy, fear, courage, confusion, certainty, hate . . . . And love. In the truth-binding Ancient Language, she said;

"Yes Eragon; I want you, I need you and _I love you_."

And then their lips met.

_What do you think? I'll try to speed up my writing over the next few weeks, since I want to get his story done and write something different. Please give me more of your constructive reviews if you're willing and I'll do my best to satisfy you. The story should pick up pace now. I think will last perhaps about 9/10 chapters in all. _


	5. Love is not Enough

_**Love is not Enough**_

To Eragon's senses, the rest of the world disappeared. He couldn't feel the fading warmth from the fire in its death throes; he couldn't smell the remnants of dinner; he couldn't hear the shuffling upstairs as the elves and students bedded down, or the roars of the dragons in their caves. All he could hear was the soft, shallow breaths he and Arya made; all he could smell was her scent of pine needles and light sweat; all he could feel was the softness of her smooth, thin lips on his own plump, chafed ones and her small, flat hands slide up his chest to connect around his neck. Eragon released his grip on Arya's shoulders to wrap his arms around her waist, allowing her to wrap her arms further around his neck.

The kiss had begun as a simple touch of the lips that would've appeared chaste had the two pairs of lips not been so tightly pressed together. Said lips soon be began to caress each other with a slow urgency. As their breathing quickened and their arms tightened around each other, their lips became quicker and their caresses turned to grinding. This dance of lips and breathes was one that neither lovers wanted to end, and yet even their breathing, as greater as it was than that of other mortals, could only last so long at such speed and intensity. When their lips finally parted, Eragon could almost swear he'd heard the smallest whimper - silent to any ear but that of an elf - slip unintended from Arya's throat.

Eragon simply gazed into Arya's flushed face, her dazed expression mirroring his own. Both riders gave out ragged breathes, their shoulders sagged and their hold on one another loosened; such was the draining intensity of their kiss. For a few minutes the two lovers remained in this breathless embrace, oblivious to the world around them, including notably the stairs leading up to the other quarters.

As the full force of what they had done dawned on him, Eragon's elation reached heights he hadn't believed he could feel; the last time he'd entertained such thoughts was only less than 3 hours earlier, when he'd first spied Arya and Fírnen on the western horizon. Eragon's right hand subconsciously left Arya's waist and lightly trailed its fingertips up her flat stomach, over the her lower abs and over her left breast. If Arya had registered the action she gave no hint she had. Eragon's fingers continued higher up Arya's chest and finally his hand left her body to gently rest his fingertips on her high cheekbone.

_"This is a dream."_ Despite his words Eragon smiled, as if he was certain they were false. In return Arya gave him a smile that would've convinced him to forsake all his powers and fight Galbatorix without them with the promise of seeing that smile again in his mind.

_"No my love. This is no dream; it's real. And I promise you it will be so for as long as you will have me." _

Arya's pledge came in a voice soft and melodious, and one which could only have come from her. By now they were both speaking in the Ancient Language, so every word they uttered was without falseness. For Eragon it was a welcome change from the barriers that had existed between them when last they'd parted.

_"Do you mean that Arya?"_ Eragon added some suspicion in his voice, if only a little, to show Arya he was serious. _"I don't want us to go back to normal after tonight."_ Arya's mouth and arms began to move in protest but Eragon tightened his grip, clutching the back of her head and her lower back firmly but gently. _"You can't wake up tomorrow morning and pretend this didn't happen. We've been here before; when Nasuada was captured; by the river; before I left . . . "_

Eragon already knew the answer; he simply wanted to hear her reassure him and say those three words again.

_"I've meant every word I've said tonight Eragon, of that do not doubt me. I've wanted this for 23 years Eragon; I won't throw it away again. I love you."_

_"And I love you Arya."_

Eragon lowered his lips to meet Arya's again and she gladly met his halfway. By now her left arm, displaced by his, had manoeuvred round to encircle his waist so their embraces were identical. This time their kiss was instantly a caressing of moist lips, heated and fluid, fuelled by the pent-up excitement of the two lovers. Suddenly Eragon broke the kiss to look at Arya with realisation and disappointment.

_"My apologies Arya, I'd forgotten the time. It's late and, as much as I'm enjoying myself and I hope you're as well, we need to rest or they"_ he jerked his head towards the stairs to emphasise his meaning_ "will be suspicious come the morrow."_

Arya's heavy sigh of disappointment was almost a childish huff, and so abnormal for her Eragon couldn't hold his chuckle. Nevertheless they gathered Arya's bags from the table, which she'd brought from the cliff on which she and Fírnen had arrived, and they made their way to Eragon's chamber at the back of the hall. It was on the ground floor, thus providing them with a safe distance from the other inhabitants of New Vroengard. It was a simple large cotton mattress filled with straw, with a small pillow. It was similar to the beds the others slept in and Eragon told Arya as such.

_"_I'd told them I didn't need a chamber to myself but they insisted since I'm the lead rider. Besides, I valued the privacy it gave me; I especially do so now." He grinned on his last words and Arya raised a solitary eyebrow as she smiled.

"And what will your students and my people think when they know I spent the night in your chamber, _Ebrithil_ Eragon?" She made a mocking bow to match her tone.

"They will think me a honourable man as I will not be spending the night in my chamber."

"Is that so?" Eragon nodded.

"And what if a lady felt uncomfortable sleeping in a stranger's bed for the first time? What if she was unsure of herself? What is she asked the honourable man to stay to ease her rest?" Arya sauntered up to Eragon, swaying her hips ever so slightly for him to see and played with the small folds of Eragon's tunic as she spoke.

"And I thought you weren't another one of my 'weak, defenceless human maidens'. Surely you'll be safe for one night until more appropriate accommodation is arranged for her ladyship?" Eragon's teasing tone clearly irritated Arya tough she only dropped her seductive tone for a matter-of-factly one.

"I was under the impression that you've no doubt been dreaming of sharing a bed with me since you where a lad of sixteen summers and gazed at me like your human soldiers gaze at whores."

"You make me sound like a bloody fool in our early days together. And a lecher!" Eragon replied in mock outrage

"You _were_ a bloody fool in our early days together. Now however, even by my people's standards, you're a young man and by your own people's standards an aged man, and certainly a potential bed mate."

"Is that why you're so eager to have me now? Because I'm no longer a boy and I am now man enough to satisfy a real woman? And aren't we going rather fast; 'bed mate'?!" Although he maintained a clam, teasing tone, his heartbeat was rising, his cheeks were warming and the old stirring in his loins was menacing him again.

"You certainly matured quickly before you left Eragon, and even then I was unsure. I wasn't certain until the day you left and our last goodbye on the ship." Their conversation paused as they briefly recalled that day and all the anguish they had felt. "Very well, if you're certain about this, I'll sleep alone."

"I'm certain Arya. As much as I'd like to spend the night with you, we need to keep appearances . . . at least for a while."

They smiled at each other and had one last short, sweet kiss before Eragon left the room with a blanket. He made his bed on one of the tables and settled down for a sleepless night as he couldn't stop reeling from the events of the day.

_Arya and Fírnen arrived, Falstan banished and Arya loves me! It's been an eventful few hours._

_It certainly has been Little One, but you need to go to sleep!_ Saphira's tired and irritated voice startled Eragon.

_Saphira? You're still awake?_

_Yes, I've had difficulty getting any peace thanks to your antics with Arya._

_There have been no antics . . ._ Eragon reacted with indignation and embarrassed denial but was cut off.

_I don't care, please settle down so that I can!_ She mentally roared.

_Yes Saphira. _

Several days passed since Arya and Fírnen's arrival at New Vroengard and the pair had settled well into life in the small colony. The announcement of Arya's abdication was shock, particularly to the elves, but there were no objections or harsh words. Arya deliberately avoided eye contact with either Olorus or Olennia but Eragon noted how they betrayed no emotion to any onlookers.

Arya was her old withdrawn self in those first seven days; even a little shy towards the students, though less so towards her fellow elves. They however had difficulty approaching her in any casual manner due to her previous status and her aloof character.

Fírnen on the other hand had quickly and eagerly assimilated into the daily routines of Saphira and the student dragons. The incident with Falstan provoked sympathy for him, and Fírnen also had the benefit of being the most senior dragon in New Vroengard after Saphira, which prompted a sense of awe among his fellow dragons.

The only time Arya opened up and seemed carefree and genuine in her emotion was when she and Eragon were alone in the evenings, at dinner and after the others went to bed. After the others went to bed Eragon and Arya would sit at the table, having told the students and elves that they were discussing political issues back in Alagaesia. In reality they would spend a short time talking about their days together, the years of separation and the feelings they'd repressed for so long.

"You know that this isn't going to last much longer, don't you?" It was phrased like a question but was more of a statement from Eragon to Arya. They were currently sitting across from one another at the long table, their hands clasped together in a firm yet soft and loving grip. They'd been alone for a few minutes and simply been alternating between loving stares and soft kisses.

"What won't last?"

"This won't last; time alone together to 'discuss the state of affairs in the homeland of Alagaesia'. The others will soon know about us. There's no point in hiding from them."

Arya sighed, her face falling. "Eragon, I understand your point but you know how awkward it will be if we come out as lovers."

"If we were to reveal ourselves here it would be with most minimal damage. This isn't Ellesmera or the Empire, everyone here knows and respects me in person and they've heard nothing but praise of you, I saw to that." Arya smirked at that

"But surely they'll have some resentment at me being your partner? I've only just arrived and they don't know me yet . . . "

"That could be remedied if you were more open towards them." Eragon's tone was teasing and had no intentions but Arya didn't see it that way.

"Eragon, you know what I'm like around people, let alone strangers. I don't make friends easily; I took months to grow used to you and you were my main friend in that time."

"That was 23 years ago Arya; don't you feel any differently? Remember what I said on your first night . . . "

"I know Eragon but for some people it isn't as easy as it may be for you!" Arya snapped in reply. The peaceful, loving atmosphere between them had shattered and been replaced by stunned silence as Eragon looked back in shock at Arya. He realised he'd pushed too far as Arya continue, looking down at the table with a distant look in her eyes.

"I'm not a trusting or open person, you know this Eragon. I was exiled from my homeland with only two companions and for seventy years they were my only true, constant friends. I didn't even realise it until they died before my eyes.

It made me even more distant than I had been before. Making new friends seemed impossible after losing the only friends that I had had, friends who'd been so for over _70 years_. Your presence was the main thing reminding me that without at least one person to share my troubles with, I would go mad with isolation and despair."

These were the most heartfelt words Eragon had heard from Arya since their night together after he and Roran rescued Katrina. He simply stared back at her, eyebrows raised, his face shocked and sympathetic. Arya looked back up at him and smiled sadly with her eyes glistening with their wetness. She reached forward with her right hand to gently caress Eragon's high cheek bone with her fingertips.

"I didn't have friends Eragon. I just had the one; you were my friend and, although I denied, you my love. The only other friend I had after you left was Fírnen and, in time, Roran was also my friend."

"I noticed from our talks. You weren't the only one I kept in contact with the last 23 years you know." Eragon took a gamble by trying a non-serious tone.

"Really? And was I ever the subject of these conversations?" The gamble worked, as Arya's smile widened and her eyes dried up. "After all, you say you were pining after me all these years, surely you must have wanted someone to talk to about me?" Arya drawled in teasing sing-song voice, that descended into her giggling at her own immaturity and the deep flush on Eragon's face.

"Well . . ." Eragon 's mind flittered back to several conversations he'd had with Roran. Roran had at first been sympathetic towards Eragon, trying to help him nurse his feelings of disappointed love and regret at not acting sooner. The feelings of sympathy however soon evolved into ones of resentment towards Arya for her behaviour.

Eragon could remember several heated exchanges between him and Roran . . . . . well actually the exchanges were more like angry monologues by Roran to Eragon. One in particular became particularly foul mouthed but that was a story for another day, if he ever told Arya, which he wouldn't do now. "I'll confess I had the odd talk with Roran - and only Roran - about you and me and how I felt."

"Did you know I'd told him about my feelings for you?" Arya's question was asked with evident hesitation and caution.

"No." Eragon was shocked and angry. _When did this happen? Why would she tell him and not me? And why didn't he tell me, he's my cousin for fuck's sake!_

"You know why I didn't tell you" Eragon was snapped out of his sudden anger by Arya's reproaching voice and defensive expression and her tightened grip on both his hands by hers. He'd forgotten his mind was wasn't defended. Arya's tone softened with her next words. "And I told him as you were leaving. it was only as I watched you go that realised I loved you. And I asked him not to tell you, I wanted you to know from my mouth alone."

Eragon gently pulled his hands from Arya's grip and stood up. He made his way around the table and seated himself beside Arya, who swung her legs over the bench to face away from the table like Eragon. As she looked into Eragon's eyes, Arya saw his message; _I forgive you and I love you_. The two lovers beamed at one another, before closing the distance between them to kiss passionately. Like their first few kisses it began as a simple yet heated caressing of different lips. However this time Eragon upped the ante by gently rolling his tongue along Arya's lower lip, silently asking permission. In response Arya's mouth opened wide and the two lovers' began to explore each other's mouths thoroughly. Eragon had allowed his earlier issue with Arya's isolation to slip for the night, as he once again forgot the world around; including the stairs leading to the upstairs bedroom.

Eragon confronted Arya on her aloofness properly on her seventh day at New Vroengard. He'd seen her on the edge of the training field where he and the elves taught the students the arts of combat. She'd stood by herself throughout his entire briefing and demonstration and now, as everyone picked partners for practice, she began to make her way towards Eragon with a discreet smile on her face; a smile Eragon time and again had to force himself to return as discreetly.

This had been the pattern for the last week. Eragon hadn't said anything in that time out of respect for her privacy and the fact that he was still overjoyed to have her here and in his arms in the evenings. Now however he grasped the opportunity; as she approached him he stilled her with and outstretched arm.

"We need to talk. In private." He kept his voice low and calm to avoid drawing attention or unnerving or offending her. Arya adopted her signature blank expression, so Eragon knew she'd sensed something was wrong nonetheless. He led her from the training field, ignoring the glances from the riders and elves, and walked her behind the weapons store hut. He stopped her there and looked her dead in the eye with his most serious look.

"Arya, I know you're not going to like this but you need to hear it." Eragon took a deep breath. "You need to make friends with the students, or else life for you here is going to be unbearable." He immediately almost regretted his words at the sight of Arya's outraged face.

"I don't know what you mean Eragon." Her voice matched her face.

"I know you've only been here a week and that isn't enough time to make good friends but it's enough to at least make a start." Eragon tried to sound reasonable and gentle in his words and his tone but they failed to have the intended effect.

"Please don't patronise me Eragon."

"I'm not patronising you Arya, I'm just saying that you need to be more open with the others. I want you to have friends here."

"I didn't have many friends back in Alagaesia Eragon . . "

"And no offence but you weren't the most content person I knew Arya." Eragon snapped at Arya, and as he spoke the words he immediately knew he'd gone too far

"How dare you just presume to know how I felt or what person I was Eragon?!" Arya's voice was harsher and its volume higher.

"Look I'm sorry Arya, I didn't mean to be insensitive. But please keep your voice down or the others will hear you!"

"Well you were insensitive then Eragon and I'd appreciate it if you didn't say such things to me." Arya caught the urgency in Eragon's voice and lowered her voice but her tone was no less harsh.

"But don't you see my point Arya? It's been a week now and you've barely said a word to any of the students. Redlyn, Illidor, Ruga, Jark; all have tried to talk to you and yet you still avoid them. The only person you say more than ten words to is me." Eragon's patience and guilt had disappeared in his exasperation and disappointment with Arya's childlike behaviour.

"I know you have difficulty with strangers Arya but this is fucking ridiculous!" Eragon continued before Arya could reply and his voice was hard and aggressive, like a mentor disciplining an apprentice.

"You're not a child Arya, even by your people's standards you're old enough to behave better than this. You can't just spend the rest of your life avoiding other people because you're not well versed in making friends. If you'd lived your life like that so far than I seriously doubt you'd have last five days as an ambassador, let alone a queen!

Remember what I said on your first night here? I know it's harder for you than it is for me but I was serious. You're not a machine Arya, and I'm not enough on my own to connect you with the real world. I shouldn't even have to be having this talk with you, it should be obvious! You and I wouldn't have defeated Galbatorix if we'd been like this, running from our problems."

"And was I running from my problems when I came to you Eragon? When I abdicated my throne and came all this way, _for you?!"_ Arya wasn't going to take such criticism lying down.

"That doesn't excuse you Arya. If anything that makes your behaviour even more disappointing"

Eragon sighed heavily and rubbed his face with his hand. Removing his hand he saw the glare on Arya's face had been replaced by hurt realisation. Yet Eragon still felt the need to drive his point home, since this was probably his best chance to break through to Arya.

"I just thought that, after all these years, with the peace and freedom in Alagaesia and the new dragons and their riders and all the good there's been since the war, surely you would have more reason to smile, to cheer, to embrace life? Especially now, when we're here together."

Eragon moved closer to Arya with caution and, when she offered no resistance, he wrapped his arms around her waist. Arya encircled his neck with her arms in return and pressed her cheek against his shoulder. They simply embraced one another, giving each other simple comfort, even as they struggled and fought. Arya fought hard not to cry but her sniffles gave her away and eventually a single tear soaked the fabric of Eragon's training tunic.

_"I'm sorry Eragon, I truly am. But even since the war I've had to lead my people, be a dutiful queen and a good diplomat. It doesn't leave much time for friendship." _

_Or Love_

It wasn't said but implied.

"I understand Arya. But you don't need to distance yourself here. No one will judge you, no one expects anything from you, especially not I. All I'm asking is for you to make the most of your life here now. What we have is wonderful, I wouldn't give it up for anything, but you need more than me."

Eragon moved a hand to gently tilt Arya's head back from his shoulder to look him in the eyes. The sight of Arya's watery pools of emerald were a heartbreaking sight for Eragon to behold. He silently vowed that he would never be the cause of such a sight ever again.

"You need friends, people to talk to, to relate to. People you can laugh with and be uninhibited with. You need a new family. Unless you want to be my assistant _Ebrithil_, you won't have my excuse of seniority to stay aloof. You've seen the way me and the others interact; to them I'm a god."

Eragon managed to keep a straight face, so as to enhance his joke. He was delighted to see Arya gradually begin to chuckle, louder and louder, until she was laughing loudly and all signs of distress had disappeared from her features. Eventually she calmed down and looked at Eragon with a single raised eyebrow and a condescending smirk.

"That was a poor joke Eragon. Valiant effort I'll grant you, but a poor one all the same."

"How could you?!" replied Eragon in mock despair.

"Humour truly isn't your art Eragon Bromsson, Shadeslayer, Firesword, Argetlam, Shur'tugal, Bane of the Ra'zac, Kingkiller, Grand Master of the Dragon Rider Order and Vanquisher of Snails. Perhaps you should stick to training Riders."

"Are those all the titles I have?"

"There's one more. _My Love_." And with she kissed him.

Eragon eagerly returned the kiss, which quickly became a another passionate affair. As with many of their kisses, they both forgot the world around them, as for them the world had shrunk to consist only of the other person. All the hurt and anger they'd been feeling just moments earlier was now passion which they threw into the kiss, as they willed themselves to forget their quarrel and once again revel the miracle that they were together again.

When they finally drew back for breath they simply gazed into one another's eyes, a common ritual after kissing which they'd adopted. So enthralled was Eragon in the embrace that it took several moments for him to realise how long they'd been gone. What's more, he sensed the presence of behind him. He quickly spun round to look and immediately his dreamlike state was shattered.

Behind him, watching in shock, open mouthed and with a single tear running down her cheek, was Redlyn.

_I'm sorry for the delay again; I've decided I'm going to try to give you chapters as long as the last one so I get through the story quicker and the longer waits are worthwhile. Whilst writing this story I realised that although I've rated this story 'M', there's nothing mature about it. So I will promise you there will be violence and sexual content in this story eventually. This also explains the sudden use of swearing in the story, so I hope you're not too disconcerted. I will also probably rewrite this story in the future when I've strengthened my writing and done some more stories so that I make a new version that's much more adult orientated; more like George R.R. Martin's work or Bernard Cornwell's than Paolini's._

_P.S. Here's a guide to the writing styles and dialogue_

"Eragon" _= Normal speech_

_"Eragon" = Ancient Language_

_Eragon = Mental Telepathy _

_P.P.S. I'm going to Istanbul for several days but I'll try to work on this story whilst I'm away. In addition, I'm preparing one or two oneshots at moment as well. You should be able to see my first story on FictionPress and a Song of Ice and Fire fanfiction in the not-too-distant (hopefully!) future! _


	6. Appearances and Acceptance

I just wanted to say thank you to 'Silverwing', one of my reviewers, whose revealed to me my mistake in changing the style of writing for the sake of the rating. I agree with you 'Silverwing', the characters don't sound right swearing strongly.

Sorry this story has taken so long, I've been working on other material to keep you entertained. please check out my new stories 'The Kingkiller's Women' and 'When Wolves Mate' (on A Song of ice and Fire fanfiction) if you haven't already. I decided on a shorter chapter because it's been so long I was desperate to put out something so I hope you're not disappointed!

Disclaimer = I do not own the Inheritance Cycle, but I do own each every OC (elves, students and dragons).

* * *

_**Appearances and Acceptance**_

The deafening silence of the moment lasted for perhaps a minute or an hour, Eragon couldn't tell. As his brain finally registered the situation and its consequences, he realised he was still gripping Arya in a tight embrace and Redlyn's tears had stopped, leaving her snivelling. That was the next shock for Eragon; he'd never had any inkling, through all the years of tutelage, that his longest and most promising pupil had any feelings for him beyond master and apprentice. It seemed to be a running problem for him and Saphira; she wanted Glaedr, Falstan wanted her, Redlyn wanted Eragon. At any other time Eragon would've laughed.

"Redlyn, you must swear to me now, that you will tell no one of what you've seen."

Eragon broke his embrace with Arya and made his slowly and cautiously towards Redlyn, trying to avoid provoking her to run and tell the others. Redlyn made some indication that she was about to run off but something was stopping her. Perhaps fear of Eragon's vengeance prevented her body from moving, or she was simply still too shocked and apparently heartbroken to act. Either way, Eragon reached Redlyn and took one of her hands in his in a firm but gentle grip. He used his other hand to support Her chin so that he could look right into her eyes. His chestnut brown looked into her pale blue, and saw all sorts of emotions; shock, grief, anger, jealousy and . . . . humiliation?

_"Swear to me in the Ancient Language Shur'tugal Redlyn, that you will speak no word of this to any soul. Not even to your dragon Mellica." _

Redlyn visibly struggled over what to do, and for a few moments Eragon thought she'd refuse out of spite, not that that would've stopped him from forcing her. Arya valued their privacy highly and until she was ready, he would guard their secret. Finally Redlyn responded.

_"I swear to you Eragon. I will reveal nothing of what I saw at this moment."_

Her use of his name rather than his title jarred Eragon, making the moment even more painful as he felt he'd lost a friend in his favourite student. She made her vow in the Ancient Language however, and that was enough for him. He released her hand and Redlyn immediately made her way back to the training grounds, walking as fast as possible without drawing attention to herself. Exhaling heavily, Eragon turned back to Arya to find her in just as bad condition as the tearful Redlyn. Her beautiful face was whiter than any sheet and her mouth hanged open in gormless shock. Having not seen Arya in such a state for so many years, Eragon was unnerved to no end and was quick to embrace her. She responded by wrapping her arms around him, clutching him in a vice-like grip. For a minutes they simply held one another in silence and stillness, before Arya spoke up in a weak voice.

"I'm sorry Eragon."

"What for, love?"

"We shouldn't have been caught like that. I shouldn't have brought this on you. I know Redlyn's sworn to secrecy but how long will it be before the others find out?"

Arya pulled back from the embrace, looking into Eragon's eyes, her own eyes full of fear and guilt. She pulled a sad but sweet smile across her face, revealed to be genuine when she raised her hand to softly stroke Eragon's stubbly face, a short giggle escaping her as the tiny bristling hairs tickled her palm. Sighing heavily, she looked down at the space between them, as if in deep contemplation. Eragon waited patiently for her to continue, his hand moving to her left arm and softly rubbing the toned flesh of her bicep. After a few moments of silence, Arya looked back up at Eragon.

"You were right Eragon; we couldn't hide forever. It's time."

For a moment Eragon was unable to reply, repeating her words again and again, unable to believe he'd heard right. "You mean . . . ?"

"Aye my love. We need to tell them." Eragon was struck numb as he processed her words and tried to come to terms with them. Ironically, although only days earlier he'd been trying to make Arya see the folly in them hiding their relationship. Now, when Arya herself was convinced that it was no longer optional, Eragon's body was suddenly gripped with an icy chill despite the heat of the day. For the first time in years, Eragon experience true fear.

_She can't be serious._ He tried to reassure himself.

_Of course she is Eragon, and you know that._ Saphira's intervention, though unannounced was no surprise since rider and dragon had maintained connection throughout the day, as they always did.

_But Saphira this isn't like her._

_That's true but isn't that a good thing? We've always known Arya to try and avoid any problem that endangers her image or her emotions. Look at her behaviour towards you for the last 23 years! Now she's deciding to face her problem head on; it's a breakthrough!_

_Yes but . . ._ Eragon had no response for Saphira's words. He knew each word was true but that was his problem.

_Be honest with me Little One, what is the real problem?_ Knowing he could never hide anything from the partner of his soul, Eragon relented.

_I'm scared Saphira. I'm scared of how my students will react. I'm scared of how the elves will react to Arya's decision to be with me. I'm scared of what will happen to Arya when she has to confront their reactions._

_Arya has to face other people and their words and thoughts someday Eragon, you said so yourself. It's better that she does so sooner rather than later and that she does so of her own initiative, rather than being forced by you or circumstance._

Saphira's tone was devoid of any judgement or disciplinary emotion. Her tone was one of plain sympathy and love. Eragon couldn't deny the truth in her words or that to fail to act now would expose him as a hypocrite in the eyes of the two women he loved more than anything or anyone else. His nerves deflated and his gratitude to Saphira blossomed.

_You're right Saphira._

_As I always am Little One, you should know by now._ The change in her tone reflected her words.

_That's enough, your students must be wondering what you're doing._

_We're resting at the moment and anyway, I don't need to pause to talk to others, unlike __**someone**__ I could mention. Now be off!_ With that Saphira severed their connection and Eragon looked back into Arya's eyes, his lips forming a small smile.

"Are you sure my love my love?"

"Aye Eragon. This was going to happen soon, so we may as well get it over with." Although she smiled broadly, Eragon could see the fear in her eyes. He broke their embrace but took her hand in his firmly in reassurance. They each took one last look in the other's eye and then, with their decision made, they walked hand in hand from the shelter of the store house and into the training field, themselves and their joined hands finally in full view of the students.

It seemed that Redlyn's vow was useless as each and every man and woman on the training field was looking in the lovers' direction. Not wanting to waste time or wait too long and lose his nerve, Eragon squeezed Arya's hand reassuringly to the raised eyebrows of the elves and students, and he spoke up.

"My dear students, elfin brothers and sisters, I haven't been honest with you and it is time I revealed the truth. As you know _Shur'tugal _Arya is my oldest and closest friend from the time of the Rider War, helping me to defeat Galbatorix. You also know her as the former Queen of the Elves of Ellesmera.

Today however I must tell you that you will now know her by another title; my mate." Eragon paused to hear and see their reactions. Although there was a small gasp from Oresta the Dwarf and the elfin twins Olorus and Olennia, the general response of the audience was surprisingly quiet and unremarkable. Before allowing the awkward silence to continue, Eragon pressed on.

"My must also apologise for my deception only a minute ago. When Redlyn came for me and Arya, she happened upon us . . . . in an awkward moment." A small snicker from Jark and Ruga was quickly silenced. "In my panic I made her swear in the Ancient Language not to reveal what she saw to the rest of you."

Eragon turned to Redlyn, whose eyes were now alive with shock, their grief and its reddening effect on her eyes having disappeared. "My dear student Redlyn, I release from that oath. It was unfair and immature of me to force such a commitment upon you and pray for your forgiveness."

His voice was truly sincere and laced with embarrassment at his actions. Fortunately Redlyn was quick to reply to his plea with a quick "Of course, _Ebrithil_". Eragon turned his attention briefly to Arya at his side. Whilst her eyes scanned their audience, she was clearly avoiding eye contact with anyone, especially the elves, and even more especially Olorus and Olennia. Bracing himself yet again, Eragon turned his gaze to the crowd and continued.

"You may judge us anyway you will, we will respect your feelings on our relationship. I understand that it is controversial and often frowned upon by various groups. However I will say this; I ask that you will treat us no differently from now on, especially Arya. You may behave towards her as you would towards any other student and neither of us will expect any special treatment on her behalf. Do you have an answer for our announcement?"

Eragon knew from his mind's closeness with Arya's that she agreed with every word he'd said. He also knew that she was now bracing herself for the full reactions of their audience. Eragon was doing the same, his palms sweating and his breath quickening. Another tense silence followed his last words, the students and elves seemingly at a loss for how to react to the boulder that the two lovers had thrown into the pond of their routine existence in New Vroengard. Finally, it was the youth Marc who made the first move.

The slight little boy of only fourteen summers walked slowly forward, out in front of the training to stand in between Eragon and Arya, and the training field's occupants. He looked up to Eragon with a small smile that showed he was trying to make it reassuring.

"_Ebrithil_, Arya" He spoke in a calm, soft voice as usual, his informal greeting towards Arya surprising everyone. "You have nothing to worry about. I have no problems with your relationship; in fact I rejoice in the knowledge that you two have found love." His words made both Eragon and Arya blush, yet he continued.

"In fact, I believe I speak for all of use when I say those words, as I'm sure my fellow students and my elfin brothers and sisters feel the same way that I do."

He turned to look back towards the training field and, after a moment's hesitation, was answered with a growing chorus of happy 'Ayes' from all the occupants of the field, even from Redlyn. Someone, Eragon couldn't see who, began to clap and they were quickly joined by everyone else. Eragon and Arya began to chuckle and then laugh out of shock at the reception. Soon the others came up one by one, offering their congratulations and shaking their hands. As he shook Illidor and Ruga's hands. Eragon could see out of his eye's corner Arya chatting happily with her fellow elfin women. In the all the relief and happiness he was feeling, Eragon failed to spot the two pairs of eyes staring at him betraying the true emotions behind their owners' eyes.

In his blissful ignorance, Eragon thought _We'll be alright. We don't need to hid anymore._

_**End of Chapter Six**_

* * *

Once again sorry for the slowness of this story; it might turn out longer than I planned since I'm making this plot up as I go along. I know that's incredibly retarded, so shoot me. I'd also like to say that for the rest of this story, there will be chapters in POVs other than Eragon's. The next chapter will be seen through Arya's eyes! Please review!


	7. Learning the Truth

**Hi everybody, it's me! I'm back! I must apologise for outrageously long absence from this story. My only defence is the shock of university life. The work was in no way what I expected and I was too tired in my spare time to do any writing. I've been writing this since my last piece of coursework was finished, as well as a couple of other stories. Please check out my story 'When Wolves Mate' if you haven't, unless you're uncomfortable with smut. You have been warned. **

**For those of you who have taken part in the poll on my account page, I say thank you. I would also like to say that at the moment I am unsure how to handle the story. Initially I thought it would just be plain smut but now I'm unsure if this is too early in my time as a fanfiction writer. Rest assured however, I will write the lemon and publish it at some point in the hopefully not-too-distant future. **

**You'll be pleased to know that one of my New Year resolutions is to do a little fanfiction writing each day to try and keep you guys satisfied. Since I'm at university this will probably be about 20mins-1hour of writing a day but it will be an improvement from before. **

**With this chapter, I'm hoping to give you a picture of what I think Arya's true nature is. I know she's among the most criticised characters in the Inheritance Cycle for being two-dimensional and for her strange behaviour towards Eragon. Here's my attempt to explain it through her eyes.**

**Here is the long overdue chapter 7 of 'We Can't Hide Anymore', my present to you all. A VERY late Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year!**

**Disclaimer = I do not own the Inheritance Cycle, it belongs to Christopher Paolini.**

**Learning the Truth**

It wasn't entirely Arya's fault that she had proved to be such a difficult conquest to make. Her defences had been built long ago and laboured upon ever since.

For her to be able to live her personal life openly and feely amongst others was a revelation to her. In Ellesmera, her heritage meant she was destined from birth to spend her life upon a stage, even if her father hadn't died his heroic death. After she and her beloved Fäolin and Glenwing left to aid the Varden none of them had time for intimacy. Arya's post as the Elven Ambassador meant she and her associates were thrown into the public eye of both humans and dwarfs as well as elves. The exposure meant the next seven decades saw Arya grow accustomed to treasuring her precious privacy, such as it was. Perhaps inevitably, she found little time for companions other than the elfin brothers. Over time Fäolin became her closest out of a handful of friends, even more so than Glenwing. Both of their deaths would likely have seen her finally cut herself off completely had it not been for Eragon.

The young rider had been the first to try and break her outer shell in years, and the very first to not falter after the first rejection. Ever since their final parting on the boat to New Vroengard those miserable twenty-three years ago, Arya had thought on her and Eragon's short time together from the beginning. His initial advances, although only of friendship, were little more than irritations in Farthen Dur. She was grateful to him for rescuing her from Durza's clutches of course, and respected him as the new Dragon Rider. Nevertheless he was still a human youth of six-and-ten years, and prone to all the weaknesses of his age and kind. It always astounded Arya how eager humans were to accept their children as adults in the most dysfunctional time of their lives.

The battle under Farthen Dur and Durza's death was the first turning point in their relationship. For the first time Arya caught a glimpse of the man that Eragon could become, given guidance and time, the latter of which in those dark days was so ill-supplied. She saw in Eragon the beginnings of a man of principle, like the riders of old. So she began to accept and even cautiously reciprocate Eragon's offers of friendship. Their time in Ellesmera was a learning experience, as they slowly grew used to one another's company. Even after her mother's apology, their truce and her re-assimilation into Elfin life, Eragon was one of her main sources of honest company and friendship.

And then he had to spoil it by falling in the love with her.

Arya was a princess, ambassador and veteran of seventy years of war. Never mind that she was also an elf. Eragon was human, practically a child and a rider who'd barely begun his training. Given the context, no reasonable person could fault Arya for her rejection of Eragon's courting, if one could call his blundering before and during Agaetí Blödhren 'courting'. Arya didn't enjoy smashing Eragon's hopes like glass on that night of celebration. Indeed looking back on those days, with her lover by her side, Arya would allow her young and foolish side the odd regret, wondering how she could have been so foolish and cruel. But everything is possible with hindsight. Given her experience with humans, and especially their menfolk, Eragon's actions came as no surprise to Arya.

It was Eragon's behaviour at their next meeting that caught her off guard. Arya expected awkwardness, resentment or aversion from him after their last parting. Yet Eragon surprised her by acting the way he should have by admitting error and apologising. Usually it was a struggle for Arya to get such maturity from the older human knights, barons and generals who clashed with her over the command table on the meanest trifles. Once again, Arya saw what could be the future Eragon; the wisdom, humility, and maturity that was needed from a rider if he was to play his part in rebuilding Alagaesia after Galbatorix's defeat.

Nevertheless, it took the next battle, Hrothgar's death, Murtagh's betrayal and his supposed revelation for Arya to feel ready to let herself get close to Eragon again. She nearly broke down her own walls when Eragon asked her to talk about herself on that warm night around the campfire. Alone in the Empire, miles away from judging eyes, there was so much more that Arya could have told Eragon. So many secrets, so many fears, no many desires. The most pressing would perhaps have been the most surprising and yet the most understandable to those who knew her. Arya wanted a family.

Fäolin had been the closest she had ever come to any romance in her life. Arya often thought back on her time with him and wondered what would have become of them and their bond after the war, if they were both lucky enough to survive. Despite their love for one another, the struggles they had shared, the battles they had fought, their pact to never falter in whatever they did in life, Arya had difficulty looking beyond the final victory. Perhaps she and Fäolin had been companions for too long, and they had forged their friendship in the fires of war and the shame of exile. Arya could not envisage a future with a man who had seemed more like the most trustworthy and reliable comrade-in-arms. A future of peaceful, respectable domesticity. Her future as Queen of Ellesmera had never been certain despite their heritage. it was entirely possible that she and Fäolin would have struggled to cope in a life together as simple mates. They story was simply too complicated.

Talking to Eragon about Fäolin, however reserved she was, eventually became a form of closure for Arya. She was finally able to come to terms with the truth that he was dead, and it was no longer something to mourn. Eragon had by now proved to her that was the potential to begin life anew, to rebuild one's self through the others around them. It seemed that Eragon did the same when those he loved were taken away. His uncle, his father, and then his tutor. Losing Oromis perhaps struck Arya harder than even the death of her old companions. Oromis had been the closest thing to a father and tutor for her from her earliest years. He had stood by her in everything, most importantly when she had taken the pledge to help the Varden. Losing Oromis made Arya feel the way she may very well have felt if she had known her father before he died.

It was when they embraced in Feinster's keep, physically and emotionally drained by battle and then by personal loss, that Arya first realised that she may be in love with Eragon. From that moment on, it was a struggle on her part to keep her herself in control. She couldn't distract Eragon at that time, when the outcome of the war was standing on a knife edge. To make matters more complex, she wasn't sure how strong her feelings for Eragon even were. Was he beginning to replace Fäolin or was there something more? In the last days of war, there was simply no time for affairs of the heart.

When the war was won, Galbatorix defeated and his forces destroyed, Arya's joy was shattered by her mother's death. It felt as if all the love, hatred and regret she had bourn towards her mother for the last seventy years had suddenly descended on her like a flood released from a dam. She needed time to mourn and she knew she would never have enough. The elves needed a new leader, and she had to transport the green egg to safety. Not even saying goodbye to Eragon was painful, but she never had the chance. When she saw him again as a dragon rider, for the first time since Galbatorix's fall, she saw how he had changed.

Gone was the ignorant youth who never thought beyond the next day. The young rider with barely any comprehension of his true potential had passed away. In the place of the old Eragon there stood the beginnings of a fine man and honourable leader of the Riders. It was at that moment that Arya knew she was in love with him.

Why did she not say? Why did she not tell Eragon what he wanted to hear? Why did she passively accept their parting, when it felt like a nail being torn from its finger?

Arya had always put something before herself. Seventy years ago it was the Varden. This time it was the Elfin throne, and the people who knelt before it.

For twenty three long years, as she and Nasuada laboured to rebuild and preserve the fragile peace that they had all won at such cost, Arya could not go a single day without the memories returning. They would keep her company for the remainder of her days, that was almost certain. Yet now, in a new home, a new life, and with a new love, they would pain her no more.

* * *

Within a few days of her and Eragon's confession, Arya felt as if she had been reborn.

Her coming out to Eragon's students and companions however saw the last stubborn walls around her heart being to crumble completely. Immediately after their confession, Arya and Eragon rejoined their students in training. Arya's first regular partner other than Eragon was Ruga; a tall opponent with a powerful attack, although slowed by his imposing bulk. By the end of the day Arya had spared with each and every student, even Olorus and Olennia, who showed nothing but respect and skill.

Over the next three days Arya began to spend less of her time in training with Eragon and more of it with the young riders. It didn't take long for her to find her favourites. Ruga was strong and smart, the kind of human male that Arya had been happy to do business with, rather than the typically arrogant fool drooling over her beauty. Marc was young but wise for his age and extremely respectful towards Arya. She also took a little pleasure in noticing the slight tinge of pink that graced his cheeks every time he addressed her. It was more sweet than annoying knowing that this child looked at her the same way Eragon did when he was only a little older than him. There was also Oresta, the shy young dwarf maiden. To her own surprise and Eragon's, Arya took to her instantly. They put it down to her refreshingly un-dwarfen-like character. Jark, Olorus and Olennia were nothing but respectful to Arya, given their shaky histories with her and Illidor's embarrassment over the incident between Fírnen and Falstan.

The only student Arya had yet to bond with was Redlyn.

Since their incident before their confession, Eragon and Arya had subconsciously avoided the red-haired rider. It wasn't out of spite or even awkwardness, both lovers simply didn't know how to approach her without making her go rigid and pale. It became eventually became clear that Redlyn was still shaken from the incident. What Arya wanted to know however was this; why had she cried?

_Because she's in love with Eragon._

Her mind told her it was obvious that Redlyn had become infatuated with Eragon just as Saphira had become infatuated with Glaedr, Falstan with Saphira and Eragon with Arya. Arya had seen many cases of such attraction in her dealings with humans and had always dismissed such affairs as childish foolishness. However, she had done the same with Eragon's youthful love for her, and look where they were now.

Arya knew she couldn't simply leave this issue by itself, despite Eragon's willingness to do so. Whenever the subject threatened to enter conversation between them, he would quickly steer their words away from it. As much as she loved Eragon, Arya was impatient with his caution and decided to act alone.

It was before dawn on the morning of her tenth day in New Vroengard, and incidentally the day Falstan's exile ended, that Arya left Eragon's chambers in the Great Hall whilst he slept. They had taken to sharing the bed together since they were no longer a secret, though nothing happened between them but sweet kiss and snuggling embraces. With her elfin litheness, Arya crept up the stairs to the student riders quarters to find them all asleep on straw-filled mattresses, spread out across the room. Scanning the room, Arya found Redlyn at the far end, her long red hair marking her out as she lay on her side. Arya crept across the room with the greatest stealth she could muster, conscious that if the human riders couldn't hear her, the elven twins could if she let her guard down.

Finally she reached Redlyn and crouched down by her head. Without hesitating for a moment she reached out and clamped one hand over her mouth. Redlyn's eyes immediately shot open and her mouth made muffled panicked sounds against Arya's palm. Arya tilted her head forcibly towards her before putting one finger to her lips to tell Redlyn to be quiet. She then made a gesture with the same finger asking her to follow her. Removing her hand from Redlyn's mouth, she stood and crept towards the door at the rooms' other end. When she reached it, she turned to see Redlyn was simply staring back at her in stunned silence.

_Come on Redlyn! I need to talk to you in private. And don't wake anyone up!_

Arya mentally screamed at Redlyn, who then scrambled from her bedding, as graciously and silently a s possible, and then crept across the room to join her. Despite the tiny creaks her heavy footsteps made, she joined Arya at the door. Arya open it and moved silently down the stairs followed by Redlyn. Eventually they reached first the ground floor and then the huge double wooden doors where they exited.

With the two women out in the darkness, minutes before the rising sun, Arya turned to Redlyn.

"I'm sorry I woke you. I needed to talk to you in private, and I didn't want the others to see us." Without thinking and before Redlyn could respond, Arya spoke again, desperate to say her piece before she lost her courage. "How long have you loved Eragon?"

Immediately she Redlyn turned her head away almost immediately but not before Arya saw the shock and humiliation in her eyes. For a minute nothing was said by either of them. The silence between them seemed as if it threatened to drown them both. Arya began to regret her decision to confront her when she was barely awake and unprepared. _What were you thinking with that opening question? How could you be so blunt and stupid?!_ Just when Arya was about to try and rescue the situation by offering an awkward, grovelling apology, Redlyn spoke.

"It began almost as soon as I arrived all those years ago." She raised her head to look at Arya; dark orbs met emerald pools in a passive face-off.

"I arrived seventeen year ago aged only fifteen, perhaps Eragon-_Ebrithil_ told you." Arya nodded and Redlyn continued. "I was young, insecure, raised on the legends of Eragon Shadeslayer, Kingkiller and everything else. When I finally saw him, he was everything I thought he'd be; beautiful and strong. Then I discovered his kindness and I became enthralled with him.

Since I was the first to arrive, I had him to myself for a while. In that time I became my father, brother, friend and idol all in one. Before long I began dreaming of a future with him."

Redlyn looked away from Arya, seemingly embarrassed by her unrestrained confession. Arya could only return the gaze, stunned and humbled by Redlyn's honesty. She then remembered her last words to her and realised she needed to explain herself.

"I'm sorry for my bluntness, I understand this is difficult for you. I don't want anything to come between us. You understand?"

"Of course." Redlyn's voice sounded cracked and her eyes began to turn red.

"I should know the answer to this but I'll ask anyway, since we'll be living together for some time now. Do you bear me any ill will Redlyn?"

Her face softened in shock. "No, of course not."

"Why? After all these years you've had with Eragon, how can you stand my presence here now?" _How can you accept me taking a man who you appreciated more fully far sooner than I ever could?_

"It's simple really; there was never any hope of competing with you. Eragon-_Ebrithil_ often talked about you, about your time together in the Dragon War. He never told us about anything other than the battles and the campaigns but he always looked different whenever he said your name. His voice would lower itself, yet so barely you only just noticed. His eyes would look down and not at us, and when you saw them they sparkled with tears he thought we couldn't see."

Once again silence settled over the pair but this time it was no longer strained. Arya simply gazed straight into Redlyn's face, examining each and every feature. She tried to find a single sign of dishonesty in her expression but could find none. She looked deep into Redlyn's eyes, light blue pools contrasting with her emerald orbs.

_"Do I have your word that there is nothing between you and Eragon? That there never was? If you bear me any ill will, I pray you tell me now."_

Arya hoped to compel Redlyn to tell the truth. She knew she was being harsh on the young woman but she had to be sure that she and Eragon would not be haunted by the love of another. Redlyn's response came in the Ancient Language.

_"I swear on the honour of my dragon Firethorn, my fellow riders and their dragons, and myself that I have never acted upon my feelings towards Ebrithil-Eragon. I swear on the same honour that I will do nothing to endanger the happiness that you and him have now, Ebrithil-Arya."_

Overcome with guilt and gratitude all in one, Arya began to weep.

**And there it is.**

**Here's a little something to help your memory and mine.**

**The Student Dragon Riders and their dragons;**

**Redlyn; Dragon Firethorn (red); Age 32; Dragon Hatched 17yrs ago**

**Jark; D. Carlra (blue); A. 17; D. H. 3yrs **

**Olorus; D. Orion (gold); A. 74; D.H. 4yrs **

**Olennia; D. Orestia (gold); A. 74; D.H. 4yrs**

**Marc; D. Beric (brown); A. 14; D.H. 1yr**

**Ruga; D. Jorac (black); A. 29; D.H. 12yrs **

**Oresta; D. Urlgrin (red); A. 42; D.H. 7yrs **

**Illidor; D. Falstan (grey); A. 31; S.H. 14yrs**

**I've come to an understanding about this story. Because it's the first and only serious, long story I've written, it's also very poor quality. I've noticed this reading back through my previous chapters. So I wanted to day this;**

**THANK YOU, EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU, WHO HAS READ MY WORK AND CONTINUES TO DO SO.**

**It is impossible for me to described with words how grateful I am to all those who continue to read, review, favourite and follow this story, despite my poor beginner skills and my long absences. The next chapter will be a surprise . . . . . . .**


	8. A Change of Plan

**Disclaimer = I do not own the Inheritance Cycle. It belongs entirely to Christopher Paolini. **

**My apologies again for my tardiness on this story. loutian 1999 gave me a decent kick up the backside to finish this chapter sooner. I have been working on it regularly in the last few weeks. However I have been busy with coursework, coming home for the holidays and writing other FanFiction such as 'When Wolves Mate'. I promise that I will work on this story as regularly and as quickly as possible but I must ask peoples' forgiveness. I know I've been a hypocrite given what I said in as earlier chapter of this story and for that I can only offer you my most sincere SORRY.**

* * *

_**A Change of Plan**_

It was a humid summer afternoon in Illyria Castle as Blödhgarm paced outside the doors to Nasuada's throne room, his harsh footsteps and breathing the betraying his impatience and nerves more than his face. He'd arrived in the city close to the middle of the day and had waited for his scheduled royal audience for the last few hours. His nerves weren't helped by the fact that he'd received a letter from her most glorious Grace, Queen Nasuada I 'The Liberator' urgently requesting his presence at her court as soon as possible. Blödhgarm had had to abandon his business in Teirm at short notice, leaving the negotiations over borders and trade with the city-state to his incompetent subordinates. Men better suited to banquets and games of cards and dice than government. Men who had been promoted far beyond their abilities for the sake of appearance on the young queen's part.

_No doubt those fat fools are destroying my work, giving the Teirm leaders all the respect a manor knight gives his lowest serf. While I waste my time waiting for to speak to her Grace._

It infuriated Blödhgarm even further that the men he'd left in Teirm were the exact sought who officially granted Queen Nasuada her grandiose title, the sycophants that they were. Her Grace had made it clear early in her illustrious reign that she was uninterested in grand titles such as Liberator or, gods forbid, the 'Conqueror'. That hadn't stopped the numerous courtiers of her court slipping in the odd titular honour every now and then as they bowed before her throne or wrote her pleas for posts and favours. What angered the elf the most however was that under the constant barrage of flattery and petitioning, Nasuada had often granted these men what they wanted.

And every time she did so, the honoured lord would tarnish the honour of his post with a monumental display of complacency and incompetence, only to be replaced by the next ambitious nobleman who had successfully harangued her Grace respectfully enough to be seen as an loyal servant eager to serve the realm.

_That isn't even the worst of it_ The elf sighed at his thoughts. It had been true for several years, and had become increasingly, alarmingly apparent even to her counterparts in Surda and Ellesmera, that the Queen, in her middle years by now, was beginning to buckle under the strain of government. Without the fiery forcefulness of her youth her Grace was increasingly ill-equipped to handle ambitious nobles jockeying for influence in her court. A court whose centre was becoming old and weary like it's monarch, with the faces of those reliable allies of old days gone by disappearing every year.

After what had seemed an eternity in those humid halls, the great oak doors to the royal hall opened to reveal a page in the blue and purple livery of her Grace. Blödhgarm turned to face him, yet for all his alien features and the sword at his hip he drew no sign of intimidation from the human youth.

"Her Grace Queen Nasuada The First of the Broddring Kingdom will see you now, my lord."

The man's voice betrayed nothing but respect and submission. Normally Blödhgarm would be glad to hear something other than badly veiled fear or contempt from a human stranger. Yet in Nasuada's court one could no longer be certain what one said to another. Blödhgarm briskly marched towards the door, the page hurrying to step aside. The elf brushed past him almost rudely, without noticing his startled face.

As he entered the throne room Blödhgarm was gifted with the sight of what was almost certainly the most beautiful man-made structure in all of Alagaësia. The entire floor of the hall was solid, grey marble with mosaics every six feet, depicting countless heroes, gods and demons from Alagaësia's ancient heritage. The walls, built with stone the same colour, were hung with immense heavy tapestries. These ornaments were dedicated almost exclusively to depicting the great deeds of Eragon Kingkiller, Nasuada The Liberator and Orrin of Surda in the dark days of the Dragon War.

The entire hall was lined with eight columns on each side of the hall, the tops of the columns spreading out to buttress the ceiling. The columns were each painted with the most exquisite depictions of a great dragon and each column had its own colour. As Blödhgarm walked down the hall towards its end, he first passed between red and black; then green and blue; purple and white; and finally, just as the elf was standing only a few metres from the steps at the end of the hall, silver and gold.

What struck the elf the most however was not the grandeur, scale or beauty. It was the emptiness. Normally even when the queen held audiences with others, the state bureaucracy had taken over most the hall as their working space. Behind the pillars the edges of the hall were filled with tables at which dozens of clerks - Broddring, Surdan, Dwarf, even a couple of elves - organised and planned the implementation of royal taxes, laws and favours. Yet today the hall was entirely devoid of living things except for Blödhgarm and the figure at the end of the hall.

Where Blödhgarm had stopped he was standing before a set of shallow marble steps that led up to a short podium. The entire podium was a simple structure, yet it was made of the purest white marble making it stand out from the bleak stone of the rest of the room. Seated upon the podium was a single object. A wooden throne with intricate elven carvings decorating its head, legs, sides and back.

And seated upon this throne was her Grace, Queen Nasuada I of the Broddring Kingdom. The Liberator

As Blödhgarm knelt before the Queen and paid his respects he took in her current features. The Queen had always been renowned for her great exotic beauty in the Western lands. The Black Pearl of the East was just one more of the nicknames her courtiers and citizens had bestowed upon her without her permission. Even in her older years - she was perhaps 40? - Nasuada was a sight that would turn men's heads. She had kept her figure through daily practice at her archery, horse riding and fencing. Her lack of children had also ensured him svelte figure had survived the tedium and restrictions of court.

Her most striking feature however remained her face, which had always reminded Blödhgarm of the exquisite art on the walls of the royal palace at Ellesmera. Even with his sharper elven eyes Blödhgarm could not find any major signs of age in Nasuada's complexion, safe for the minuscule crow's feet by her eyes. One could still admire the high cheek bones, the smooth skin as dark as ebony, her full lips and her large dark eyes. Beneath her dwarfen crown her hair fell long and straight and as black as the hair of his last two queens. His mind was momentarily drawn to them.

Blödhgarm had been as shocked as you may expect to discover upon his return to Alagaesia that his people's beloved queen Arya had abdicated after only 23 years on the throne, a short time for most elven monarchs. Yet it did not take long for him to realise why she left. If the rumours in Ellesmera were any indication, neither did it take the rest of the Elven people to realise why their Queen had left them and decided to join Eragon Kingkiller, Leader of the Dragon Riders, in the middle of nowhere.

Blödhgarm was truly hopeful for his master and his former queen, which surprised him greatly. He had always been dubious of relationships across races, even among the Riders. Elven storytelling and singing contests were full of tragic, or perhaps humorous, tales of humans and elves trying and failing to live and love together in love and romance. Yet there was something different about Arya and Eragon, although he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He was pulled out of his thoughts when Nasuada spoke for the first time.

"Customarily my subordinates bow before my throne by now. Whatever their race."

A stunned and embarrassed Blödhgarm realised he'd been caught being tardy. He, an elf, by a human! He was about to respond when Nasuada stood from her throne and walked down the podium until she was standing before him.

"But for old comrades I can make an exception."

Nasuada smiled at her own words, and Blödhgarm couldn't help but grin back. The two opposite creatures, the ebony-skinned human and the furry-skinned elf embraced one another like old friends. After they parted Nasuada spent the next few minutes asking Blödhgarm about the mission in Teirm and its progress. He bluntly told her it was fine until he left but he was sceptical about its prospects in the hands of her other subordinates.

"I understand your reservations about Teirm my friend but I need you here with me. I have a far more important task for you."

Raising an eyebrow in interest, Blödhgarm followed Nasuada over to one of the tables still left on his left at the edge of the hall. On the table was a expansive map of the entire continent of Alagaesia, including the distant eastern lands which Blödhgarm and his master Eragon had been among the first to explore. The elf and the human queen seated themselves at the table and Nasuada wasted no more time.

"You know off course that Eragon is off in the far east, in New Vroengard training the new generation of Dragon Riders. Riders whom we have yet to see any off . . ."

"It takes time to train just one Dragon Rider your Grace. Especially for people with a lack of experience in such matters, such as _Ebrithil_ Eragon and myself. And each new Rider adds to the labour."

"I understand wholly. However I cannot give that same answer each and every time my nobles complain to me about the absence of the old order."

"Then piss on them! How can they understand? When the riders return they won't dare to question you or their authority!"

"But I can't wait that long Blödhgarm!" Her voice was getting louder now, as Blödhgarm's had been. "You know what kind of men I have to contend with in this court! Old men, men of the old order. These men were Galbatorix's largest supply of lickspittles and yes-men, and they reaped the rewards of their stations under his rule. Since I came to power I have had to run a kingdom with such men at my disposal!"

"Then why tolerate them? They supported the tyrant, why not purge the kingdom of them and their type?!"

"You know I can't simply punish men for following their lord and king in past days. And needed men who understood the Empire, how it worked and what kind of society it was. I came to the throne a girl from the Hadarac Desert, who live most of live in the Boer Mountains and whose only experience of civilisation was fighting against it."

No more words were needed after that. Blödhgarm sighed heavily as the difficulty of Nasuada's situation sunk it. He knew from close contact the difficulties of running a kingdom in which the interests of its citizens didn't match those of their leader. His Queen Arya had struggled with her nobles over the issue of assisting in the recovery of the human lands in the aftermath of war. After the losses sustained by the elves, not including their last queen and Arya's mother, the nobles were unwilling to send the elven nation's brightest and best to restore the health of the human kingdoms.

"I understand Nasuada, and I'm sorry for my outburst. It is infuriating however to see these scheming sycophantic hypocrites crawling around your throne. And you can't do anything."

Nasuada fixed Blödhgarm with a long, hard stare, which for a few moments he simply returned. It was a stare he recognised from several individuals. Islanzadí, Arya, _Ebrithil_ Eragon and Nasuada. It was a look that his superiors would give people when they were about to ask him to carry out an important order. An order which they dare not trust with another soul, for it was too vital for anyone without Blödhgarm's skill or experience to be given charge of it.

"You are wrong my friend. There is one more thing I can do. But I need you to be my arm. Are you prepared for whatever I ask of you?"

"Of course, my queen."

_My queen_. Never had the elf though he would use those words to describe a human. His queen took a deep breath and loudly exhaled before he spoke.

"I need the Riders. I need your fellow elves. I need Arya. I need Eragon. I need you to bring them home."

* * *

**And there it is! not brilliant for such a long delay but I had to post something after all this time. The next chapter will be longer and will pick up where we left off with Arya and Redlyn. Once again, I'm so sorry for my failings as a fanfiction writer and will do my best to improve my record in the coming weeks and months. Thank you.**

**P. S. Please review.**


	9. Three hearts

**Some of you may be wondering why this is an M-rated Romance fanfiction and Arya and Eragon haven't fucked yet. If you are wondering, there are several reasons. Firstly, they've only been together properly for a few days, and given Arya's character and Eragon's mature age, they wouldn't rush. Secondly, they're surrounded by young students and elves, so they've little privacy. Thirdly, Arya is still a highly reserved character and Eragon is highly cautious around her. Which makes sense even if she weren't Arya, since this is his first relationship. **

**Hope you enjoy this chapter, I'm glad I'll be able to write more these days as I'm free from exams! I'd like to repeat that because it feels so good to say it . . . . **

**I'M FREE FROM EXAMS! FUCK YEAH!**

**Enjoy the story.**

**Disclaimer = Christopher Paolini owns the Inheritance Cycle. I don't. I own the Dragon Riders however (Paolini's left it too late to own them)!**

* * *

_**Three Hearts**_

**Arya**

Arya was weeping. It was one of her oldest and worst nightmares, to be caught in such a vulnerable state by anyone, especially when she was queen of the elves. Throughout her reign, her only possible companion and witness during such times of openness had been Fírnen. Her dragon and soul mate had been the only one whom she could possible allow to see her in this way. Now she was weeping in front of a woman who was in love with Arya's own mate. A woman who had spent the last seventeen years with her beloved, years which Arya had missed almost entirely.

"My lady? Arya? What's wrong?"

Redlyn's voice seemed to be filled with genuine concern, which made Arya weep even more.

"Nothing's wrong."

The look she received from the redhead told her she wasn't buying it.

"Nothing's _wrong_, not anymore at least. You've been honest with me, you've promised to accept me and Eragon. And yet I don't understand . . . how can you do that? How can you allow me to be with the man you love?"

Arya knew that her words would probably hurt Redlyn but she had to make her see her confusion. She needed to know why Redlyn had just simply stood there, looked her in the eyes and promised to give up on winning Eragon.

"Do I have a choice? Do I have a chance, now that you're here?" Redlyn's voice was now bitter and sad. "You don't truly think that I haven't been tortured by my love for my master and the love both of you share. Every night since I saw you, I've gone hiding myself form the others, making sure they can't see me weep. I didn't want them staring at me, knowing exactly what was wrong."

Her words stunned Arya and it must of showed. Redlyn scoffed but it was a weak scoff. By now she was weeping as well and trying to wipe her tears away. As Arya did the same, Redlyn crossed her arms as if to try and bolster her own nerve. It certainly gave the impression that she was the less fragile in this conversation, as did the more spiteful tone she used in her next words.

"Yes Arya, everyone here knows how I feel about Eragon. Everyone except him apparently. I wonder how he would have greeted you if he'd known how I had felt. If he'd known that there was a woman who loved him already by his side, would he have waited year after year for some elf who he knew for a year and should be little more than a stranger to him?!"

"How dare you! What Eragon and I went through together in that war was no passing acquaintance girl!"

"Really? Barely two years together and most of it you spent shunning him and his love like it was nothing!"

"He told you that?"

Arya's voice fell greatly at Redlyn's words. She would admit her rejection of Eragon was long and perhaps even cold, but Eragon to tell other people that . . .

"Words to that effect! 'She wouldn't have me' was what he said and he listed all the reasons you gave for not having him. And then you arrive here, after _twenty-three years_, and within days you two are in love? After everything else? How?!"

Another awkward silence followed Redlyn's heated revelation, as a stunned Arya took in her words. The absurdity of her situation came crashing down on her in an instant. When she had arrived at New Vroengard barely a week ago she had been too desperate and happy to see Eragon again to care about their separation. On the night of her arrival, when they confessed their love, she thought she had adequately explained herself to Eragon and that was that.

However, she now had to confront the bizarre nature of her and Eragon's relationship so far. They had only been reacquainted after over twenty years apart for . . . how long?

_I'd only been here for a week when Redlyn saw us. And Falstan comes home today._

Ten days. Arya and Eragon had been reunited for six days and for all of that time they had been like young lovers, only just discovering the sweet, innocent affection of youths for the first time.

Arya's thoughts were interrupted when Redlyn, frustrated by her silence decided to continue her angry tirade.

"How can you just arrive here after twenty-three years of hardly seeing or speaking to him and in only a few days have Eragon's love? How can you do that?!"

"I don't know! I wish I could answer you and comfort you Redlyn but I just don't know! Me and Eragon simply love one another deeply enough to forgive the years and the waste. Eragon loved me twenty-_four_ years ago, when he was just a young rider in training. And just as he was leaving, I realised that I loved him as well.

I realised that I was in love with the youngest dragon rider for over a century. I was shocked, I was miserable, I didn't know what to do! I had a kingdom to rule and Eragon understood that. That's why he still loves me Redlyn. He understands who I am and why I am that way. He accepts my flaws and my duties, even when it hurts.

He doesn't hate me for what I've had to do, and I don't hate him for leaving me to go to the edge of the world because he was too afraid to raise you and your fellow riders in Alagaesia!"

It was only as she finished her rant that Arya realised she had started shouting much earlier and she had been very loud. It was also at that moment that she realised that Eragon was standing behind Redlyn.

For a moment both women simply stood there in stunned silence, staring at the man they loved. Their gazes were returned with blankness. Eragon's face, usually so alive with joy, anguish, passion or wonder, simply stared back at them with no emotion. It was impossible for either woman to gauge what Eragon thought or had to say on what he had just seen and heard, however much of the conversation he had heard.

Redlyn was the first to speak again, her voice weak and stammering, a world away from the defiant fury it had held earlier.

"_E-E-Ebrithil_, I'm sorry, I . . we . . ."

"Redlyn, please go inside. Me and Lady Arya need a private discussion."

Redlyn hanged her head in acceptance and walked past Eragon. Without another word she opened one of the great doors and walked inside. With her gone there was another long awkward silence.

_We seem to be getting used to these_ Arya pondered. It was a sad epiphany that in the six days that they had been lovers, she and Eragon had had several of these long silences, whether alone or with the other people of New Vroengard. In fact their entire relationship so far had been extremely active. Arya and Eragon seemed to be experiencing every high low of first time love within the first fortnight.

The silence between them continued, with no apparent end to it. It seemed neither lover could think of what could be said after what one of them had just said before the other. Then Eragon sighed heavily and began to speak.

"Arya, before you ask, I'll let you know that I only heard the last words you said to Redlyn."

"Eragon I . . ."

"_Don't_. Please Arya, I don't want to get angry at you. We've had enough fighting in the few days since you came. It's ridiculous and I'm sorry you've had to deal with all this in such a short time. Do you understand?"

The tension from his first word had dissipated and the look in his eyes seemed to be pleading with her form something she couldn't fathom.

"I understand, my love."

Arya saw the edge of Eragon's lips twitch up momentarily before he quickly resumed his blank stare.

"Arya, what were you and Redlyn doing out here at this time in the morning? The sun is barely up."

Arya tensed at Eragon's question and the accusatory tone of his voice. It didn't help that she refused to show any emotion as he stared her down. But Arya was never one to avoid the inevitable and she certainly wasn't one to try and escape her wrong doings either. So she took a deep breath, exhaled and spoke in the Ancient Language.

_"Eragon, since the day we confessed the state of our relationship to the others, I have been worried. I know that your students have accepted us and every minute I am grateful for that. But I couldn't stop thinking about Redlyn. Time and again I kept thinking about how she looked at us when she saw us that day. Don't tell me that you haven't thought on it."_

Eragon sighed but gave her a short nod.

_"I understand if you disapprove of my actions but I had to do something. I had to speak with her. I couldn't look at her without her turning away. So I went to her this morning and brought her out here so we could talk about her and us."_

_"And what did she say?"_ Eragon's voice in Arya's tongue sounded as if he was flinching.

_"She told me about how you told her about me, about us and what you wanted us to be. She said you had told how I rejected you and all the ways we couldn't be together before. And she said that everyone here knew how she felt. Everyone but you."_

Eragon's response was yet another silent stare, this time his eyes were widened in shock. _So he truly didn't know_ Arya pondered. To say that she was relieved would be no exaggeration. Redlyn's words about how Eragon had a woman here that loved him, for all that time him and Arya were apart, had awoken her worst fear for the last two decades. The idea of Eragon being with another now, after the few days of near-bliss they'd had together, was terrifying.

Remembering what else Redlyn had said and its importance, Arya told Eragon; _"She also said, however, that she would make no attempt to make us reject one another. She swore in my people's tongue that she would respect our union and leave us alone."_

_Because she has no choice_ Arya wanted to add but she wanted Eragon to continue to respect his favourite student when he next saw her. He certainly looked relieved to hear the last part but only slightly.

_"I'm glad she is being mature and honourable about this. But my main concern is not that; it's the others. What are we - all three of us - going to do when we have say to the others. They already know about Redlyn. I had to make them stay upstairs when I came out."_

_"We woke everyone up?!"_

_"Yes! I know you didn't mean to. I didn't want them giving you an audience. Hopefully Redlyn's on her own in the Great Hall and the others have obeyed me."_

_"I need to sit down."_

**Eragon**

Deprived of a seat Arya made do with the bare earth. Eragon joined her, sitting down as close to her right side as possible. He wanted to throw an arm around her shoulders but she didn't look as if she wanted comfort from him at that point. the look in her eyes told him she was thinking hard. He sighed and began to think himself.

_Why did this have to happen _He pondered despairingly _It had to happen stupid. There was no chance that this could be ignored forever. But couldn't it be done more privately? Would that even be possible here? I suppose not._

_So what can we do. We can't simply tell the other riders and elves what's wrong. 'Everybody, I want you to know this. I'm in love with Arya, and she loves me but so does Redlyn your fellow rider. I don't love her that way. Just wanted you to know.' What in hell's bells are we going to do?!_

_The two of you are being ridiculous!_

Arya and Eragon jolted at the unexpected voice in both of their heads. It was several moments of jerking from side to side, looking for the intruder before they recognised him.

_Fírnen? How are . . what do you mean? When did you awaken?_

_He woke me up for our morning ride together._

Saphira's melodious voice entered their presence with a her typical dry humour in her tone. It suddenly turned dark and Eragon and Arya were both covered in shadow. They both looked up to see their dragons fast approaching the earth. Despite the huge expanse of both of their pairs of wings, especially when they flapped to keep them afloat, they never seemed to move more that a few feet from one another as they descended.

_"Good morning Fírnen."_ Arya spoke to her dragon almost like a lover. like Eragon to Saphira.

_Good morning little one. You're troubled again this morning._ There was no questioning in his tone.

_"Again?"_ Eragon looked at the elf by his side. She looked back at him.

_"I'm always worried. One of us has to be. Redlyn has been on my mind since our confession." _

_"Why couldn't you tell me?"_ The hurt and betrayal he felt was quickly coming through Eragon's voice. He was already frustrated with the morning's events and now his lover was keeping things from him.

_"Because I couldn't predict how you would react. I didn't know if you would try to avoid it or if you'd overreact and force a confrontation."_

_" But I . . ."_

_Stop it! Both of you! _ Saphira snapped. Eragon looked up at her surprised and annoyed at the intrusion.

_"I was just asking my mate"_

_No! Whenever you two start one of these conversations it always leads to you shouting at each other over some ridiculous matter. It's only been ten days for goodness sake. You need to learn how to talk to each other civilly. You Eragon need to stop obsessing over Arya . And you Arya need to learn to trust my rider. I'm sick of me and Fírnen having to block our thoughts to you two shouting and crying at one another every other day._

Her tirade over she looked down upon the pair of two-legged lovers before with the look of a frustrated parent. As to complete the image, Fírnen tried to look sympathetic to Eragon and especially Arya. Saphira turned to look at him with disapproval and his only response was to try and look as if he didn't understand what the problem was. The entire scene looked like a normal family and were it not for their predicament Eragon and Arya would surely have laughed.

Arya was the first to speak. _"She's right"_ she said. She turned to look at Eragon who turned so he could return her gaze.

_"I'm sorry Eragon. I've been too difficult for you in the last few days. It was never my intention to be a burden to you. I only wanted to try and reach an understanding between Redlyn and I. It was wrong of me to not tell you or consult you."_

Eragon simply looked at Arya stunned by her heartfelt words. He was still growing used to her being open to him and admitting her faults and failings to him. It was one of the great joys of their new union. Eventually he simply smiled at her and reached out to hold her hand. She glanced in surprise at his hand before looking back at him as he spoke.

_"I understand Arya. And I'm sorry. I'm probably difficult to get along with but you're the only woman I've been with. I still don't know how to deal with these issues but I want nothing more than to learn with you."_

Arya's smile at his words was small but it spoke a thousand words to Eragon. She leaned forward to place a small kiss on his lips, which he replied by prolonging it. The two lovers forgot their dragons who looked down on them, both of them smiling. One in satisfaction, the other in affection.

* * *

**Like it? Loath it? Please read, review and let me know.**


End file.
